No One Noticed
by word puzzler
Summary: Voldemort has fallen. But the price was too high, the survivors too few, for Harry Potter's younger sister to handle. As Rose Potter struggles to overcome her PTSD another tragedy strikes and sends her spiraling into a depression fueled by survivor's guilt and grief. With nothing left to lose she sets out to find a way to do the impossible: change the past and save her loved ones.
1. Alive Again

**_DISCLARMER_****: ****_This is a blanket disclaimer, I will NOT be repeating it! So please pay attention! _****I don't own anything of Harry Potter.' Not the names, places, characters, concept, nothing! They belong to the creators/writer/authors/ect which does not include me, sadly.**

(Sort of) Extended summary/explanation: Harry was 15 months old when his parents died, which was enough time for them to have another child, his sister Rose. (I did the math and I have a sibling that is only 13 months younger than me so I _know_ it's possible.) Both were sent to live with the Dursleys and both went to Hogwarts. However, the addition of one more person changed fate drastically and in the end all most no one survived the final battle. Heart broken and suffering from crippling survivors guilt, Rose tries to move on but when one last tragedy strikes she loses the only thing keeping her going. In one last desperate attempt to reclaim all she's lost she searches for a way to do the impossible: change the past. She discovers an archaic ritual that offers her the chance she's looking for. The price is astronomical, the possibility of failure sky high, but when failing means nothing changes and not even hope remains, she'll do whatever it takes to save her loved ones.

The first part of the chapter is the **Prologue**, a (in my opinion) necessary and confusing evil which sets the stage for the rest of the story. Don't worry if it doesn't make much sense, it should all make sense in the end so please be patient. If you have any questions wait a few chapters to see if they're answered, if they're not ask me via review and I'll try to answer them.

_Italicized words = memories, visions, telepathy, and general emphasis._

Line breaks indicate changes in perspective, time lapses, scene changes, and the like.

**Warning:** I may have to up the rating later. This story is a bit dark, when I said she was suffering from PTSD I was serious, this character survived and fought in a **war, **that kind of thing affects people. A lot! I do/will try to even it out with a bit of humor, but I did mark this as a tragedy for a reason. Please head the warning: if you are easily affected by this type of thing, **don't read!**

**In the End**

* * *

She closed the door with deliberate softness before turning and surveying the room. She crossed over to the large desk and ran a hand over it as she walked to the large window. She stared out at the wide expanse of lawn and trees that made up Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. She giggled, then chuckled, and finally burst into laughter as she danced around the room.

"I take it someone is happy about being made Headmistress?"

The woman paused in her happy dance and looked in the direction of the voice.

"Teagan!" She cried, sweeping the Hat off its' self and twirling the it around the room.

"Allow me to congratulate you, Ms. Hermione Granger, on becoming the first muggle-born Headmistress."

"Thank you," the woman chirped, "but it's not 'Granger' anymore."

"Ah! Well congratulations on that as well!"

"And thank you again," the Headmistress chuckled, dropping into her chair and placing the aged Sorting Hat on the desk.

"My, I have not been danced around like that since the First Renegade!" The Sorting Hat sighed, and stretched out its brim.

"Really?" Hermione leaned forward. "I never pictured the Founder to be the type to dance. Whenever you mention her, she always sounds so serious."

The Sorting Hat chuckled, and a line on its 'face' rose much like an eyebrow. "I don't believe I said the Founder was a woman."

Hermione grinned impishly, easily reverting back to the spirited child she'd been the last time she'd spoken to the hat, before letting out a sigh of frustration.

"I know, but I still haven't given upon trying to find out who the Founder actually _was_."

It was a long standing tradition that all Renegades participated in: trying to find out about the Founder. Yet, despite generations of students giving it their best effort, nothing was known about the mysterious figure. Not the House, the name, or even the gender.

The Hat tilted its pointed top. "Well you _are_ the first Renegade _and_ Guardian to become Headmistress. . ."

Hermione perked up at his tone.

"If you swear your silence I will tell you the tale, but it is not a happy one."

Curiosity burning she only hesitated a moment before giving her vow of silence.

"Very well, you'll need to reach inside me."

Feeling silly, Hermione stuck her hand inside the Hat. Something large and heavy fell, crushing her fingers. Cursing softly, she pulled it out. The binding was a dark purple and a pair of wings trapped by a halo of thorns was done in light grey at the very center.

"The symbol of the Guardians?" She muttered, frowning. "Teagan, you said 'first Renegade _and_ Guardian,' does that mean the Founder was a Guardian?"

"Yes, the first Renegade was the first Guardian."

"But," her frown deepened as she thought, "that's impossible. The first Guardians were already operating before Renegade had even been formed."

The hat sighed and tapped the cover with its brim. "This will answer your question."

She looked at it, at first she'd thought it was a book, but looking at it again it seemed more like-

"An album?"

"Yes, a very special album I received nearly 87 years ago." The Sorting Hat wiggled its brim, much like a child would wiggle their arms when the wanted to be picked up, and Hermione obliged, placing the Hat on her head. 'Open it.'

She did and gasped.

A young girl of about 17 sat, her head thrown back in a silent scream of pain and sadness. She was covered from head to toe in blood and holding the body of what looked to be her brother. Surrounding them lay the ruins of a castle torn apart by war and littered with the dead.

It was far from a professional drawing but the dark and bold lines captured the girl's pain perfectly.

"This," The Hat began in a soft voice, "is the story of a loss and love no one remembers, of a pain no one heard, of a sorrow no one saw. The story of a girl no one noticed and it all began in the summer of 1999."

"Wait! I thought you said you got this eighty seven years ago? 1999 is only sixty odd years in the past."*

"Patience child," the Hat scolded. "It will all make sense in the end. Now. . ."

* * *

Bag banging against her side, Rose Potter walked through the halls of Hogwarts. They were clear now, repairs almost finished courtesy of the House-elves and volunteers, but she still walked as if bodies and fallen debris litter the floor. As far as she was concerned nothing had changed and it was still only hours after the battle. She simply couldn't forget, and she refused to even try. She would remember. Remember every drop of spilled blood, every scream of pain and fear, every shed tear, every destroyed life, every lost loved one. She had to. It was her driving force, her motivation, the only thing that kept her going, from giving up and joining all those she lost in death. It was the reason she was about to do something very dangerous and incredibly stupid.

She encountered no one; which was good as they most likely would have tried to stop her and Rose couldn't afford to waste any energy or magic on getting rid of obstacles. Although, there was also a good chance anyone who saw her would run away screaming, terrified they had come across the living dead.

It wouldn't be far from the truth. Two years of constant research and little to no food or rest had stripped her of what little beauty she had. Her skin was stretched tight over her bones, hair thin and wasting, and eyes so dull and sunken into her skull many would mistake her for a walking skeleton.

She reached her destination and paused to battle away the memories so she could focus. She paced in front of an empty stretch of wall, her cloak snapping every time she turned. A final turn and a door appeared. She placed her hand on the knob and hesitated. Once she started there would be no stopping and no walking away without finishing. It was all or nothing, though in all likelihood it would be all _for_ nothing. She took a deep breath and walked into the room.

The door slammed shut behind her and sealed. It wouldn't open again until the ritual was over. She dropped her bag on the table and laid out her notes, carefully going over them one last time. They detailed an archaic ritual, older even than Merlin, but powerful, and it promised a chance to change everything.

She snatched up a dagger and turned away from the table, descending into a shallow pit.

"Step 1," she muttered to herself. "Rune circle."

She drug the tip of the dagger along her finger, watching as a line of blood appeared. She knelt at the edge of the circle and drew the first of many blood runes. The sight and smell of blood brought back the memories with a painful force, and she struggled to keep herself from succumbing to the despair and agony.

It took hours to set up and by the time she was done she was light headed. She sat back, breathing heavily, and wondering if she had the strength to finish.

"No." She shook her head. She'd finish, even if it nothing came from this except another body, she would die knowing she'd at least tried.

She drew her wand and snapped it in half. Using the splintered ends she sliced open her palms, before snapping the pieces in half again. She rolled the remains between her hands, hissing at the pain. Once they were entirely covered in blood she arranged them around her, pointing each fragment in one of the cardinal directions. She took a deep breath.

"Now, for the last step."

She held her hands over the small pile of ashes, letting her blood wet her brother's remains. Slowly she mixed the blood and ash together, and with the constant flow liquid it only took a few minutes to form a gritty sort of paste. She used the blood-ash to paint the last set of runes, fighting back the bile clawing at her throat and struggling not to pass out.

By the time she'd finished with the last rune her vision had darkened until she could barely see and was so cold her body had given up shivering.

It didn't matter.

She placed her hands in front of her on the stone, forming a triangle, and forced her magic to follow the flow of blood.

"Please," she whispered as her vision finally gave out, "let this work."

**_"It did, child. It did."_**

* * *

**Alive Again**

* * *

For a brief moment she completely and utterly aware. For the first time in years she felt entirely alive and was able to think clearly, and in that moment she was only able to think one thought.

'Let it end. Make it stop. Let me die!'

And then it took over.

Pain. Millions of knives were tearing her apart a hair's breadth at a time. Where ever the knives pierced flame followed setting every nerve on fire. It seemed years before she became aware of the screaming; a horrible sound of pure anguish that only intensified the pain. The pain vanished and so did the screaming replaced by broken sobbing and laughter.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"

Rose opened streaming eyes to stare at the speaker, whose voice was muffled by a white mask just visible under the hood of a black cloak. The burning ache of residual pain was excruciating and so terribly familiar.

"Just when I think I've finally killed you, you start screaming again. It's not nice to tease like that." The man finished in a scolding tone filled with mockery.

It was then Rose realized what was happening. The body she'd been thrown into was that of someone who'd been tortured to death by Death Eaters.

The man grabbed her roughly by the hair, pulling her up from the floor. He raised his wand –

"Oi, hurry up!" A voice called. "This place is gonna come down any minute."

"Give me a second!" the man holding her yelled back. "Che! And here I was looking forward to seeing how long you could hold out for," he muttered as he threw her back onto the floor. "Ah well, all good things must come to an end." He sighed sadly. "Say goodbye, Mudblood."

He raised his wand.

"NO!"

The window exploded, blasting the man off his feet, and raining bits of glass everywhere.

Rose pushed herself onto her knees, gritting her teeth against her pain riddled body, and crawled over to the unconscious man, picking up his wand.

"Good bye," she panted, and with a wave of the wand all the broken bits of glass imbedded themselves in the man. Gathering the last of her strength, she stood and stumbled over to the window and looked down. The world spun and she pitched forward, landing with a crack and a thump.

Her whole body twitched and jerked, sending fire racing down her leg and aggravating the splinters her chest seemed to be made of. Something wet and warm was falling into her left eye and down her face, leaving her feeling cold.

'Help,' she thought too tired to even open her mouth. 'Someone please, help me!'

The world darkened; covered by the sticky, warm something that left her feeling so cold.

* * *

Rose woke to the sickening smell of disinfectant and a steady beeping sound. She blinked and looked around. Curtains surrounded half the bed, giving the illusion of privacy. A small tv was mounted on the wall above an open window out of which she could just glimpse a couple stars. A machine, the source of the beeping, blinked on her left while a small table to her right held a glass and a pitcher of water.

"So, Muggle hospital then," she muttered, wincing at the scratchy feel of the words against her throat.

Slowly, so as not to reopen any wounds, she sat up and poured herself a glass of water, frowning at how much her hands shook. Draining the glass, she lay down and closed her eyes. The painful throbbing in her head eased as she reviewed the memories of both her 'first' life and current body. It took every bit of her limited skill in Occlumency to even begin to untangle them and she was sorely tempted to just let the body's former memories fade away as trying to keep two lives worth of memories in one body was not only confusing but would drive her insane.

With a groan she resigned herself to the long task ahead.

* * *

_She was skipping around a garden, occasionally picking flowers. She quickly had too many for her 5 year old hands to hold and skipped to the back door of a house. ~ The world blurred and she was 6, sitting at a table as people sang 'Happy Birthday,' bouncing on her seat and wishing she could open her presents.~ The world spun, she was 7 and it was Christmas Eve and she was struggling to wrap her mothers' present without getting caught. ~ The world faded, she was 8, dressed in black, watching as men lowered coffins into the ground while a grumpy looking man dragged her away muttering about fools in the rain. ~ The world blurred and she was crying softly under the covers while another girl whispered words of comfort._

* * *

In the end Rose decided to keep only the happiest memories from the former occupants' childhood and let the rest fade away.

Exhausted, she opened her eyes. A soft glow filled the room and it took a few minutes before she realized it was sunlight. With a groan Rose rolled over and pulled the covers over her head, her entire body protesting the idea of anything other than sleeping. And she did, not waking until sunlight filled the room the next day.

With a yawn, Rose sat up with only a dull throbbing in her head, as most of the unwanted memories had been forced out. Absentmindedly raising a hand to rub the last of the ache away she started when she felt her fingers brush across a bandage.

"Must have hit my head pretty hard," she muttered and then grinned. A head injury coupled with the 'trauma' she had endured would make it easier to claim memory loss and no one would get too suspicious if she 'forgot' something important or acted different. It could also explain why she started using magic. From what she'd seen in the memories, the girl had shown no signs of magic which meant she was probably a squib.

Death had said she would keep her magic along with her memories, but in order to use her magic the body she was in had to have a magical core, which squibs did, only they couldn't access it.

Rose frowned. Closing her eyes, she searched for her magic and gave a small cry of relief when she felt it respond, sending a warm tingle through her body and further easing the various aches and pains, but it felt. . .odd, almost wrong. She opened her eyes and stared at her hands, opening and closing them.

'Is it because of the body?' She bit her lip. Maybe her magic hadn't fully merged with her new body yet. It was then Rose noticed the bandage on her forearm, a small tube sticking out of it. Curious, she peaked underneath and immediately turned green.

"Sweet Merlin, an IV," she moaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and swallowing against the rising nausea. Thankful she, unlike many magicals, had studied muggle medicine as well as magical and knew better than to yank it out. . .no matter how much she wanted to.

The image of Hermione explain what an IV was to a green faced Ron and Neville swam in front of her eyes and she snorted; they would most certainly have pulled it out. The brief flash of humor was quickly replaced by a pang of longing and sorrow.

"I'm never going to see them again," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "No, no I _will_ . . .from above. I'll be their guardian angel and," she angrily scrubbed the tears away, "and I'll make bloody damn sure they live in the world they deserve!"

"Beside," she continued with a grimace, "I've already gotten a start."

The image of the Death Eater she'd killed swam before her eyes.

"One down, a couple thousand to go," she sighed. "So much to do, so little time. At least I have a wand."

Her heart skipped a beat and she bolted upright.

"Where's my wand?" she looked around frantically, but before she could get up a door opened and the curtains were roughly pushed aside by an anxious looking woman. Her expression softened when she saw Rose wide eyed, anxiously clutching a pillow, and a panicked look on her face.

"Calm down, honey. It's ok. You're in a hospital," she said in a soothing voice, mistakenly thinking Rose was frightened and confused about where she was. When Rose said nothing she continued to reassure her as she made her way around, checking the machines and jotting down the information on the clipboard attached to the foot of the bed.

"Now, dear, I'm going to get the doctor so he can come and check you over." She gave a cheery wave as she left.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Rose snatched the clipboard from the foot of the bed, smirking a little when she saw the infamous doctors' handwriting had nothing on her brothers' messy scrawl. A quick scan showed sever nerve damage and blood loss, several cracked ribs, badly sprained ankle, broken leg, concussion, and several cuts that required stitches, one of which was on her face.

Rose frowned, most of the injuries she wasn't too worried about, she'd had worse and besides her magic would help heal most of them. No, what worried her were the stitches, especially the ones on her face. She gently ran a hand over the gauze on her face.

"I really can't afford anything that will make me stand out," she muttered, wincing as recalled Death's words.

**_". .live in such a way that you do not exist at all."_**

With a sigh Rose skimmed the rest, hoping the reason her name and other personal information was blank was because nobody had been able to get it from the orphanage, preferably because it was gone. She dimly remembered there being a fire. If so, it would mean she could set up a completely new identity which would reduce the risk of anyone from her body's past recognizing her.

Rose drummed her fingers on her knee, frowning as she thought. She knew her body's age-

She shook her head. 'M_y_ age.'

-was 9, but. .

"A name," she muttered, "I need a name; one that won't stand out, one that I'll remember to answer to."

She briefly considered keeping her name 'Rose', but quickly dismissed it.

'"Rose" doesn't exist anymore.' The thought was painful. 'Besides I was never much of a 'rose' anyway.'

Her lips twitched as a memory of a little Harry telling her she was 'prickly' surfaced.

* * *

_"I'm gonna call you Briar Rose, from now one," he declared, closing the book of fairy tales with a snap._

_"Why?!"_

_"Because you're prickly just like a briar and people need to be warned!"_

* * *

"Briar," she mused, rolling the name around. "Well, Harry, let's hope people listen to the warning." She smiled sadly, before sighing. "Now for a last name."

She blinked as her mind went blank.

"Damn!" She let her head drop onto her knees. "Come on, think! Just like a story . . .a story? Got a name warning about danger, now what else am I?"

. . .

"A lie. Liar? Briar Liar? ECK! NO! Not a lie, maybe a . . .fake? Fake? Flake? Arg! Think! A fake in a story."

. . .

"Fake. . .story. . .Story, myth, tale, fable, saga, nov – wait! Fable, hmmm. . . Briar Fable?" she smiled. A fable, a tale no one would believe even if it _was_ true. Oh that was perfect, a perfect description of what she'd become: someone with a life no one would remember, with a story no one would believe.

A small cough interrupted her rather morbid musing, and she stiffened, mentally cursing herself for being caught by surprise.

'I definitely need to get this body in fighting shape,' she thought as she slowly lifted her head from her knees.

The doctor was tall with grey hair and a lined face, but despite his obvious years his eyes were clear and sharp, scanning her with a practiced ease as he walked over.

"Doctor Meyers," he stated, holding out his hand and giving her a warm smile.

Swallowing, and silently praying that she would be able to play the role of a young child, she shook it and gave a small smile in return.

"Hi."

"I see you've found my notes." Meyers said, gesturing to the clipboard on Rose – now Briar's - lap.

"S-sorry I was. . curious." She handed it to him, biting her lip.

"Not a problem dear," he replied as looked it over.

"Umm, why isn't my name on there," she asked, hoping it came across as an innocent question.

"Ah, well, we didn't know your name." A small frown appeared on Meyer' face.

"Why not?" she held her breath as she watched his frown deepen, hoping he would say what she needed him to say. He sighed.

"The records from the orphanage where you were found were all destroyed in the fire, and," his voice was soft and gentle, "I'm sorry to say, but you were the only survivor."

Briar didn't need to fake the look of shock and horror on her face and it wasn't until she was pulled into a hug that she realized she was crying. It took several minutes before the tears stopped and she was calm enough to continue. After which it didn't take much effort (though it did require quite a bit of tears) to convince Doctor Meyers of her 'faulty' memory.

"That might actually be a blessing," he muttered as he wrote on the clipboard. "All right dear, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and I want you to answer with the first thing that pops into your head, Ok?"

He waited until she nodded.

"All right then, color?"

"Blue."

"Music."

"Joy."

"Family."

". . .lost."

"Sun."

"Warm.

"Name."

"Briar." His lips twitched as he surreptitiously wrote it down, and Briar bit her tongue to keep from laughing.

'Too easy.'

"School."

"Confusing."

"Hospitals."

"Bad tasting medicine."

"Age."

"Nine." Another scribble.

"Introductions."

"Stressful."

"Parents."

"Questions."

"Ms. Briar. . .?"

"Fable." Another scribble.

"Party."

"Explosions." Fred and George just couldn't pass up an opportunity to make a ruckus.

"Birth day."

"June 8." She'd decided that her arrival was akin to second 'birth' and had back tracked the date from the information on the chart.**

"Well, my dear, I think you may remember more than you think." He smiled at her, tactfully avoiding telling her what her most recent 'birthday' had included.

"Now, it's been decided that you'll be staying here for about 2 weeks. That doesn't included the time you've been unconscious, which was," he check his chart, "four days, not counting the day you arrived.

"While you're here I want you take it ease. You've been through a very traumatic-"

'There it is,' Briar thought.

"-experience and your body is still recovering and is very weak right now. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now, I'll be checking in on you from time to time, but the nurses will be seeing you every day. However, if you have any questions, or just want to talk, you can ask for me or any one you feel comfortable with, ok?"

She nodded.

"Do you have any questions for me right now?"

"Just one, I think. Did I have anything with me when I got here?"

"You had a couple things. Are you wanting something in particular?"

"I don't really remember, but-" She bit her lip and gave him her best 'I'm innocent and lost' look. "But maybe if I could see them, they'll help me remember."

His eyes softened, and he left promising to bring her everything he could.

He was true to his word, within a matter of hours she had a box holding everything that she'd had with her when she'd been brought in: the blood stained and burnt clothes, a broken hair clip, a sliver chain and locket, and the wand.

She almost cried when she saw the wand, she was so relieved, and quickly put it and the locket under her pillow. The clothes she let the staff throw away along with the hair clip; they held no value to her and the memories they did bring were not ones she wanted.

Briar spent the rest of her stay in the hospital trying to stabilize her magic and merge it with her new body. Something that was much harder than it should have been; she suspected it was because the muggle medicine was interfering. She also spent a great deal of time planning.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

***** By my math the "Golden Trio" was in their 7th year (ages 17-18) by 1997/1998, so Rose would have been 18/19 by 1999 as she's a year younger than the trio. This prologue takes places in the far future when they're between 70-80 years of age (I don't see someone, even Hermione, becoming a headmaster/mistress without a good many, _many_ years under their belts) which would make 1999 about 60-65 years in the past, though the story itself takes place in the Marauder era which makes it an additional 20+ years in the past. Hence, the Sorting Hat saying it received the book about 87 years ago.

**** **The technique just employed is an actual psychological test (shortened for the sake of the story), though I don't know if doctors can or do use it.


	2. Lists and Plans

_**Lists and Plans**_

* * *

_Riddle and Information:_

_Real name:_ _Tom Marvolo Riddle_

_Age_: 'Let's see 70ish years old by 1998. . . I think. So that would mean he was born in. . .Let's see 1998-70 = 1928ish, so let's see it's 1969 right now so 1969 - 1928 ='

_41! . . ish_.

'Ha! He's old!'

_Current plans: world (British) domination_

_HQ_: _Riddle manor in 90s and_. . .

'Fuck! No idea where he was hiding in the 1st war maybe. . .'

_Malfoy's? Crabbe's? Goyle's?_

'Probably Malfoy's. Hmm. . .what else. . .oh!'

_Wand:_ _yew and phoenix tail feather, 13 in._

_Physical appearance:_ 'Based on what Harry said he'd seen in Dumbledore's memory. .'

_ugly, with red eyes, hair-_

'Maybe.'

_-and, pale skin._

_Pets/familiar:_ _2nd war, Nagini; 1st war_ (. . .) _no idea, a snake?_

_Mental state: unstable, probably/ border line insane_

'Hmm can't think of anything else, so. .'

_Attacks:_

Moody's voice floated through her head as she wrote.

* * *

_"__To know how to stop them," he growled, slamming a stack of files on the table in front of her, "you need to know where they've been, what they've done, how they've done it, when, and why."_

_He handed her a note book._

_"I want to see a list of all attacks. Where they attacked. Who was there. What they did. Who they killed. What spells they used, and a list of victims. __Well? Get to work!"_

* * *

She gave the list a bitter smile as she looked it over. It was an exact copy of the one Moody had made her write and then memorize.

_Horcruxes:_

_Ring:_ _location ~ Guant shack in Little Hangleton; defenses~ if worn will kill wearer, surrounding defenses~ unknown_

_Diadem:_ _location ~Hogwarts, Room of Requirement, go left and look for a cabinet and an ugly bust, use phrase-_

'What did Harry say he said?. . .what was he trying to do?. . Ah that's right.'

_'I need a place to hide my book.'_

_Defenses~ unknown, nothing that will prevent touch_

_Diary: location~ Malfoy Manor-_

'Probably after he graduates in. . .'72?'

_-between May '72 –October '81._

'Didn't Ron's dad find a hidden room under the drawing room?'

_Defenses~ will possess anyone who writes in it._

_Hufflepuff's cup:_ _location~ Lestrange vault-_

'Didn't she graduate in '69? Or was it '70?'

_-between May '69 –October '81._

'There's no way I can get it out of Gringotts, so I'll have to get it before she puts it in. Holy, bloody mother of Merlin! It's already June of '69! Let's see it'll probably take at least 5 years to work her way into the inner circle, so I need to make my move before. . . '74?'

_De__fenses~ nothing preventing touch, at least after it's in the safe._

_Slytherin's locket: location ~ coastal cave near Westleton; defenses ~blood barrier_. .

'Harry never did say exactly where. Guess I'll have to smear blood everywhere then. Fantastic.'

_Defenses~ enchanted lake filled with inferi, and basin of . . pain causing poison? Put there in-_

'Let's see, Regulus died in '79 so'

_-between '78 and '79_.

'Damn, that doesn't give me much time.'

_Death Eaters_:

_Malfoy, Nott, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Lestrange. . ._

_People to Protect/Help:_

_Lily Evans/Potter, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Frank Longbottom, Alice ?/Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Severus Snape. . ._

_Death's Demands:_

_Destroy Hallows, destroy Horcruxes and kill Riddle._

'Didn't even have to ask.'

_Kill Flamels _

'Apparently, living too long is just as bad as being immortal.'

_Leave no lasting impression. . . And deliver required number of souls._

* * *

Small fingers let both pen and paper fall onto the bed as they buried themselves in long, honey-brown hair. Several shaky breaths later and sheets were thrown back, carefully covering all papers, as a girl jumped from the bed and dashed to the nearest toilet to retch.

Rinsing the foul taste from her mouth, the girl's eyes slowly rose to meet their reflection. Wide, impossibly black eyes stared back from above a slightly rounded nose and bright pink lips all set in a round, lightly freckled face framed by honey-brown hair that fell in tangled waves down the back of her 4' 3" frame. She would be cute, pretty even, if it weren't for the slightly peeked look from recently lost weight, the haunted look in her eyes, and the ugly red line that stretched diagonally on the left side of her face.

Fingers traced the nearly three inch mark that cut so close to her eye it was a miracle she hadn't lost or damaged it. Briar sighed as she looked at her new reflection. The scar was annoying, an identifier she couldn't afford, but it was the eyes themselves that freaked her out.

She knew from the body's memories that they had not looked like that before and had come to the assumption that it had happened when she had taken over the body. Though why? She had no idea, just that it was another thing that would make her stand out, something she could _not_ do.

"All right in there, dear?"

Briar jumped at the nurse's voice, tearing her eyes away from her reflection.

"Yep," she replied, exiting and smiling up at the nurse. "Just getting used to the. . .changes."

The nurse's worried look softened. "Ah, love, I know it must be strange not remembering anything – "

Briar winced internally; having her excuse said back to her always made her feel slightly guilty to the original body's occupant.

"– but you'll make new memories. Happy ones! And given what you went through it's probably a good thing you can't remember."

It was the same speech she'd heard every day since her conversation with Dr. Meyers.

'If only that were true,' Briar thought wistfully as she walked back to her room. 'No! With my memories I can make sure no one has to suffer what we did and this way I can protect Harry and - and _him_.' She closed her eyes as her brother face and voice echoed through her mind.

* * *

_"__Rosie, look! I made you a necklace." A smiling, 6 year old Harry held up a necklace of woven weeds. ~ An 8 year old Harry quietly sang 'Happy Birthday' while handing her a bracelet made of threads. ~ A 10 year old Harry laughed as he told her how he'd tricked Dudley into giving him a bar of chocolate. ~ A bright eyed 11 year old Harry, glowing with happiness, turned to show her his new wand. ~ A scared and bleeding 14 year old Harry, cried in her arms next to the bed that held Cedric Diggory's corpse. ~ A 15 year old Harry looked at her with dead eyes as he sat in Sirius's room. ~ A 16 year old Harry screamed and thrashed in his sleep. ~ A 17 year old Harry lay dead at her feet._

* * *

"No," she whispered in a hoarse voice, "I will **not** let that happen."

Determined, she strode back to her bed and picked up the papers. Absent mindedly rubbing the spot on her chest where Death's scythe had cut into her as she flipped through her lists.

"Well, I know what I have to do; now, how am I going to do it and what am I going to need?" Picking up her pen, she began a new list. As it grew, it became a combination of ideas, objects, and additional tasks that needed to be done.

After running out of thing to add to her lists, Briar began working on various plans and strategies. As she worked a conversation she'd had with Hermione at the end of their third year played through her mind.

* * *

_"__It was exhausting," Hermione sighed, "going back hour after hour to get to classes."_

_Rose hummed absently and Hermione looked over at her._

_"__Ok, what's going on in your head, since it obviously isn't focused on _me_."_

_Rose smiled._

_"__I was just wondering if you could go back years, and if you could, how you would be able to communicate with yourself."_

_Hermione narrowed her eyes._

_"__You can't." she said bluntly. "Even supposing you were able to go back farther than twelve hours, which you __**can't**__, seeing yourself or allowing anyone to see the you from the future would be the worst possible thing you could do. It could destroy the world! Or time! The very universe!"_

_Rose sighed._

_"__I know, but hypothetically, if you could go back years, and you __**had**__ to communicate with someone, how would you do it?" She looked at Hermione who must have seen how much the answer meant to her._

_"__You can't change the past, Rose," she said quietly. "Even if you could go back farther, who would you talk to? It couldn't be anyone who knew you, and why would anyone believe someone claiming to be from the future?"_

_She flinched a bit at the broken look on Rose's face. "But if I could go back that far, I'd probably write a book about my life, or maybe about the changes that needed to take place so whatever happened wouldn't happen again. I'd leave the book somewhere the younger me, or whoever, would be able to find it and then I guess, I'd just hope for the best."_

* * *

"Write a book, huh?" She twirled the pen between her fingers and smiled, adding _write a book_ to her ever growing list. "Ok, Hermione, let's see if your idea will work."

For the most part she was left alone except for the occasional checkups by doctors or nurses, all of whom were irritatingly curious as to what an 'amnesiac' could be writing. Wracking her brain for something to show them, a faint, pre-Briar memory surfaced of a half sketched flower. Deciding she had nothing to lose, she gave it a try, surrendering to the body's instincts. To the surprise of all, it turned out rather nicely, and she instantly decided this was a skill she wanted to keep. It provided a nice excuse to always be scribbling and it would be her way of honoring the memory of the girl whose body she had taken over.

With a way to divert any unwanted attention, the rest of Briar's stay in the hospital passed quickly and in just over 2 weeks she was standing with the aid of a crutch and staring up at a large blue and white building, notebook of plans and sketches held close and the wand she'd taken from the Death Eater she'd killed hidden up one sleeve.

"Hello dear." An elderly woman with a hard lined face and kind eyes stood on the porch in front of her. "Welcome to St. Mary's orphanage."

The orphanage had a small enough number of children that only the younger years needed to share, and Briar was able to have a room to herself. That night she traced privacy and notice-me-not runes on a spare piece of paper, forced to use blood since it was the only un-traceable magic she could do. Once finished she wrapped it around the handle of her door, securing it with loose threads.

"There, step 1 complete," she muttered, flopping down on her bed, "and tomorrow step 2: becoming a nobody."


	3. And 2 years Pass

**And Two Years Pass**

* * *

"Hey, that's really good," Alice said, looking over the shoulder of a long, brown haired girl.

"Thank you." The reply was so soft she almost missed it.

"Do you draw a lot?"

The girl nodded then, "You cut your hair."

Alice blinked, not expecting that. "Er, yeah."

"You did a good job."

"Thanks!"

There was a beat of silence then, "Will you cut mine?"

"You want me to cut your hair?"

The girl nodded. "Please?"

"Yeah - yeah, of course! Let me get my scissors."

Alice was stunned; when she first walked over she'd merely been curious about what the orphanage's new girl was like. She'd been surprised by the drawing, a half started sketch of a field of flowers, that she could tell would be pretty. She'd been startled when the girl commented on her hair and then complimented it. The two sentences more than anyone had heard her speak at one time since her arrival three weeks ago, and now she was cutting her hair.

"Short. . .with bangs," had been the only direction Alice had been given.

'A real shame,' Alice thought. 'It looks so nice long. Wish my hair was that pretty long.'

"There, done." Alice stepped back, eyeing her work critically and handing her a mirror. The girl fingered the ends of her hair and titled her head side to side. The once long, wavy hair now barely touched her shoulders and curled around her face, with bangs falling into large, impossibly black eyes giving her a distinctly impish and boyish look. She turned to face Alice and smiled for the first time.

"Thank you, thank you so much. This - this is perfect," she said with a laugh, handing the mirror back to a blushing Alice.

"No problem."

With another small laugh, the girl picked up her sketch book and skipped away.

One week later Alice woke to find something propped up on her desk. It was a drawing of a young girl, frozen in the act of dancing in the middle of a field of flowers. Above her, hidden amongst the clouds, were a man and woman. They were just faint enough to be anyone but the small smiles on their faces radiated love and happiness as they watched the girl; the girl that looked exactly like Alice.

* * *

Briar smiled as she passed by Alice's room and heard the faint sound of sobbing. She knew from her time watching the slightly older girl that they were happy tears and she hummed happily to herself pleased the gift was well received. It had taken a lot of work and if Alice ever thought to look closely she would see that it was actually made of two papers stuck together, and if she were to pull them apart she would see the back of her picture covered with strange little markings done it what could only be blood.

The runes were designed to not only keep the picture from fading, but also bring feelings of happiness and contentment to the looker.

'It's worth it,' she decided, 'to be a few days behind schedule if it makes someone happy.'

* * *

Briar stopped, sitting down underneath a large oak whose heavier branches brushed the ground forming a leafy cave. A charmed ball floated around her head giving off just enough light so she didn't have to squint. Swinging her bag off her shoulders, she pulled out a small note book, rifling through it until she came to certain page, and two cases. From one she carefully retrieved a short, 4in long crystal that glowed faintly. From the other she removed a pair of glasses, the silver shining in the light. She opened them and inspected the inside of the frames which were almost completely covered in maroon colored markings.

Picking up the crystal, she made a cut across each palm and, concentrating her magic, gently rolled it between her hands. When the crystal began throbbing she stopped, putting it down just long enough to heal her hands. Picking up both the crystal and glasses she began the slow and tedious process of carving the runes into the inside of the frames.

"Finally," Briar breathed, leaning back heavily against the tree. "Finished."

She held up the glasses, turning them this way and that, inspecting them. The last of the runes glowed an eerie red before fading to the rich maroon of an active blood rune. She sent a small pulse of magic, ensuring all the runes were active and attuned to her magic.

Briar sighed, wishing the blood runes didn't stand out so much on silver. Not that anyone would be able to see them unless she took them off and showed them, and besides silver _was_ a great conductor and holder of magic. Also, blood runes were powerful, much stronger than ordinary runes and much harder to break or detect. But they were generally avoided and frowned upon because of use of blood, and often thought of as 'dark' because of their use in many dark rituals.

It had taken three months (well two really, the first month had been spent learning her way around the orphanage and looking for a place to practice magic without being caught), but she'd finally finished making them. Quickly she put them on and pulled out a mirror. She upped the level of magic wanting to see the full affect, and her mouth fell open.

The color of her eyes was impossible to determine, her freckles had blurred until she couldn't tell if they were there or not, giving her skin an almost tanned look. Her features looked un-noteworthy and indistinct. The only thing that stood out was the glasses themselves. She tilted her head and squinted. With the glasses and short hairstyle she could easily pass for either a boy or a girl.

"Perfect."

She removed the glasses and watched as the features of her face snapped back into focus. It would take much longer to reach that affect as the runes worked by exposure: the longer a person looked, the less they would be able to see.

She looked at the silver, half – moon spectacles, frames slightly bigger than normal to accommodate the runes, and smiled at the memory of her model.

"Well, better get used to them. . .again," she added, thinking back to her 'first' life. With a yawn, she gathered up her supplies, being especially careful with the crystal and its razor sharp point. It had taken her three nights to transfigure and a month to 'charge' it with the correct type and amount of magic necessary for it to be used to carve runes. Finished packing, Briar began the thirty minute jog back to Gladden Glade village*****.

* * *

The librarian looked up as the library door opened and a child entered. He smiled as he watched the most frequent visitor walk over and place a stack of books in the bin marked Return. Three hours later a stack of books landed on the counter in front of him.

"Find everything ok?" he asked, getting the usual silent nod. "Finish all your homework?"

Another nod.

"Good, well let's see what you've got today." He said eagerly. The child always had a variety. A book on mythology, an encyclopedia of plants, a basic chemistry guide, a book detailing the psychology of criminal minds (he gave the book a raised eyebrow, but said nothing), and . . .another book of fairytales and magic. He smiled as he stamped the return date.

'Proof,' he thought. 'That no matter what, a child is still a child.'

"There you go. Not a lot today, you feeling ok?" he asked jokingly.

"I want to study the encyclopedia carefully," was the quiet explanation as she, and he was only certain of that because her library card read 'Ms,' loaded her bag with the books and hefted it onto her shoulders. He sighed as she left, that short reply was as much as he had come to expect from her in the five months she'd been coming.

* * *

A loud crack sounded through the trees and Briar stumbled as she appeared. Gaining her balance, she spun on her heel, disappearing with another crack and reappearing a good ten km away. Another crack and she was twenty km farther. Briar continued apparating and disapparating until the moon began descending.

Panting, she lay on the ground willing her stomach to stop twisting.

"6 months. You'd think having a smaller body would make it _easier_ to apparate," she muttered, picking herself up.

As she walked back to the orphanage, Briar looked over the list of names and locations she'd collected in the last three months. It was extensive, covering several pages, and beside each name was at least one crime; the most common of which were murder, torture, and child abuse or neglect******.

"327," she counted. "Hopefully I can finish this in 6months."

It had taken a great deal of effort and work, but Death had said that it didn't care who died as long as its 'quota' was met. Briar was determined that if she had to do this then she would kill only those who truly deserved to die.

In her opinion anyway.

* * *

A man smiled.

'It was almost _too_ easy.'

Next to him a slightly younger man was panting on the ground, his eyes bright with adrenaline.

"We did it," he gasped, grinning at the bag of stolen goods. "Did you see the look on his face when I shot him?"

The man on the ground turned his back on his partner to rifle through the bag.

The man's grin widened as he silently eased his knife into his hand. 'Too easy.'

He plunged the knife into his 'partner's' back. The man screamed, struggling to get away as the knife came down again and again. It was too late, he'd be dead in a few minutes, and the first man laughed.

"It's just too easy!"

He settled down to watch. Oh, how he liked to watch. He was still laughing as his knife floated out of his victim's back and flew at him, blade slicing across his neck. His victim looked at him.

"Karma you bastard," he coughed around a mouthful of blood. The knife hovered in the air a moment before sliding across his throat, ending his suffering.

A loud crack and the knife fell to the floor midway between the two corpses.

Briar fell to her knees, retching and shivering, tears pouring down her face. It was one thing to hurt and maim when in the midst of a battle, but very different to kill in cold blood. Briar shivered at the thought, and retched again. It felt as if her body was trying to physically rid itself of guilt and shame.

It was a good ten minutes before she was able to push herself away from the puddle of sick. Shaking, she pulled out a small mirror and, with a trembling hand, pulled down the collar of her shirt.

Two marks right above her heart, visible only to her, were reflected in the mirror; one glowed the color of blood before fading. It read **5429**.

* * *

_"__**To help you keep track of what you owe me**," Death said, light flashing off its scythe as it carved the numbers into her soul. "**I'll even separate the magical from the non. . . so you don't get confused."**_

* * *

Briar shivered, rubbing the spot to rid herself of the feeling she'd gotten as the numbers changed.

"**First kill**," an evil voice whispered in the back of her mind and a strangled sob escaped her as she flung the mirror away from her and wept, despairing at the thought of doing again.

* * *

She flew through the window, a bag clutched in her talons. She dropped the bag on the bed before landing on the small desk next to the window. She hopped until she was in front of a propped up mirror. She blinked, slowly eyeing her reflection.

Dark stripes ran up and down her body making her feathers look like strips of bark. Ruffling her feathers in what could only be the owl version of a shrug she flew back to the bed and shifted into a girl.

"A barred owl," she mused, kicking off her shoes. "Interesting, wonder why I'm not a fox."

She changed into her night clothes while she mulled it over.

"Must be because the body's different." She decided, before smiling. "At least now I don't have to wait for a broom to fly."

'And this time,' she thought as she tucked herself in, 'it only took 11months.'

She fell asleep, feeling finally at home in her 'new' skin. Being able to successfully transform meant her body had finally accept her magical core. Whether it was in place of the squib core or if the two cores had merged somehow she didn't know or care, all she was certain of was that it meant her body would no longer dampen, hinder or reject her magic. It was fully integrated and she _finally_ felt whole again.

* * *

Briar closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The memories of the nights 'reaping' as she dubbed it drifted through her mind. In the firmest mental voice she could manage she said, _'Briar Fable_.' There was the feeling of things shifting, flipping around. Suddenly her mind was filled with sketches and lines from the books she'd read.

Taking another deep breath, Briar repeated the process, this time with the name-password, '_Harry James Potter_;' the flipping feeling again followed by the nights' memories and a flood similar ones. Letting out her breath, Briar opened her eyes and gently rubbed her temples. The faint throbbing was a great improvement from the searing, near crippling migraines she'd gotten when first beginning the exercise.

"A little more practice should make the. . .switch smoother and faster," she said softly to herself, a habit from her 'first' life.

The 'switch' idea had come while she had been reading about the theory of multiple personalities. It had been a stroke of luck she had desperately needed, since her child's body wasn't developed enough for her to use her original method of a series of mazes made of useless and fake memories.

This method however, essentially split her mind, thoughts, and memories into two halves or 'personalities'. One based on pre-Briar memories, onto which were attached all the day to day happenings of Briar, an ordinary if somewhat antisocial and forgettable child that liked to draw. The other was based on her 'first' life and contained all the things she didn't want anyone to know about; and, by using a high level locking spell and mentally projecting it over each 'personality' it would (hopefully) prevent spillovers and (theoretically) prevent anyone who'd gotten into one mind from seeing or even knowing that the other was there. The addition of the password made them a little more reinforced, and by using "Briar Fable" as the password to her 'child' mode it would hopefully be reinforced every time someone said her name.

Shifting into her owl form, she flew back to the orphanage, her mind drifting back. . .

* * *

_"__Come in," Dumbledore's voice called just before she could knock. With a sigh of frustration, she pushed the door open._

_"__Headmaster Dumbledore, how may I help you?"_

_"__Ah, Rose, thank you for coming. You don't need to be so formal my dear."_

_The usual comment was ignored and his smile was infectious, if a tad annoying._

_"You are aware, I am certain, that I have asked Professor Snape to teach Harry Occlumency?" He waited until she nodded. "While normally I would ask him to teach you as well, the guise they are acting under wouldn't work for you."_

_She smirked. Yes, she knew all about the 'remedial postions class' her brother was taking, and while normally she would have begged, pleaded, and demanded that she also be allowed to learn something like Occlumency, her pride would not allow her to go to anything with 'remedial' in the title. That and, unlike her brother, she had inherited their mothers' skill in potions and no one would believe that she needed, or wanted, to take a remedial course._

_"__That being the case," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling with laughter at the shared thought of Snape doing anything with Harry. "I have decided to teach you myself."_

_Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She'd been trying to get him to teach her since her third year when she'd figured out both he and Snape were master Legilimens and Occlumens. _

_"__Really?" Her voice came out far too excited and squeaky for her liking, but she was too happy to care._

_Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, and since you visit me regularly anyway, we don't even need to find a reason."_

_She beamed at him; finally she would have a way of protecting her secrets and, more importantly, another way to help and protect brother._

* * *

Landing on the bed she changed back into a human and pulled the covers over her head, mentally whispering _'Briar Fable'_ and slipping into dreams of color and wind.

* * *

Briar sighed, letting the pen fall from her hands and shaking out the cramps. It had taken her weeks to work out what she was going to write and all night to finish editing, but finally she was done. She picked up the finished product and gave it one last proof read. Her lips twitched as she read the opening paragraph, and the smile grew the farther down she read, until she was chuckling as she put it down.

Her eyes skipped back to the rather extensive list of problems. There were 37, and that was after she'd narrowed it down to, what she considered, were the biggest problems. Most dealt with the way magical creatures, muggle–borns, and muggles were viewed and treated by the magical world.

Things were going to be interesting tomorrow when Diagon Alley was flooded with hundreds of copies. It was really too bad she wouldn't be there to see how people reacted.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was having a relatively peaceful morning. He'd woken up, bathed, dressed in his recently altered bright orange and green robes, and was currently relaxing with his favorite cup of tea and candy.

"DUMBLEDORE!" A voice exploded into his office and said man nearly choked on his current lemon drop. Coughing, he rose to greet the irate intruder stumbling from the green flames.

"Dugald, to what do I owe this sudden and loud visit this morning?"

The man was already talking, stumbling about the room and waving a piece of paper in the old man's face.

"Why don't you leave this," Dumbledore plucked the paper from the other man's hand, "with me, and I shall look it over and get back to you."

He ushered the minster into the green flames and breathed a sigh of relief when he disappeared. Really, how the man came to be a minister when he couldn't go a minute without bouncing off the walls, he didn't know.

Shaking his head, Dumbledore seated himself at his desk and shook out the page, wondering what new piece of legislation he would be forced to suffer through.

**_Problems of the Britain's Magical World_**

Well at least the title had promise. He skimmed the opening paragraph, then read it again, eyes widening as he took in the list of problems. Many were issues he'd been addressing or meaning to address for years. Though some were ones he'd over looked and blatantly ignored. What caught his attention most was the ending.

_These are far from being the only problems the British magical world faces, but they are some that this writer believes are the most important and/or pressing. I ask you to think about what can be done to fix these problems. I have my own solutions that I will share with you in my next letter. Perhaps, then steps can be taken to fix these problems for the betterment of the magical community and all whom it affects._

May you find shade in the light and a candle in the dark,

**_Guardian_**.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, sucking on a lemon drop.

"It seems," he said to himself, "that things have just become more interesting."

* * *

"Welcome to year six*******! To start off our year and get a chance to know a little bit about you, I'd like each of you to come up here and give your name, age, your favorite subject, and your favorite past time. I'll be calling your names in alphabetical order and since there are no 'A's and I'm the only 'B' it looks like I'll start.

"I'm Ms. Binder. I'm 27, my favorite subject is history, and I like to garden in my spare time. Ok, up next is. . .Cork, Christian!"

A sandy haired boy stood and made his way to the front. He gave his speech and was replaced by "Fable, Briar." From the back of the room came a quiet shuffling noise as a girl made her way to the front.

"Briar Fable," the girl began, her face practically hidden behind short, wavy hair and silver half-moon glasses. "I'm 10, I don't really have a favorite subject, but my least favorite is grammar. I like to draw."

She sat back down and was quickly forgotten as others introduced themselves.

* * *

Briar perched on the branch of her oak tree and tried to sleep, head tucked under one wing. It was October, a month that brought nothing but bad memories even when she switched to her child side. So, she'd taken to sleeping in her animagus form since an animal's mind wasn't capable of handling the complexity of human nightmares. Unfortunately there was an annoying sound keeping her from getting any sort of rest.

With an irritated hoot and a ruffle of feathers Briar took off, sharp owl eyes searching for the source of the noise. The sound came again and this time she recognized it as the cry of a young animal calling for its mother. She turned her head, sniffing at the air. Something very young and bird. . ish. Ruffling her feathers as the sound came again she decided to wait for the mother, as the idea of leaving a hatchling was disquieting to both animal and human parts of her.

She poked her head through the bush and after a few minutes spotted the source of the noise. It was small, very young, and mostly featherless lump. She cocked her head and wiggled over to the young bird. It buried itself in her feathers as she checked it over and looked around. There was no nest and judging by the broken twigs it seemed the little bird had fallen from its nest. Looking at its size, it was a miracle it hadn't died in the fall. Too tired to really care and with the hatchling now silent, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Morning came much too soon, and with it came a problem. What to do about the baby bird. She couldn't leave it or it would die, but she hadn't heard or seen a parent. It seemed whatever had caused the hatchling to fall had either claimed the lives of the parent bird or chased it away for good. She transformed, ignoring the scrapes and scratches caused by the bush, and scooped up the baby bird and wrapped it in her shirt.

"Well I'm not leaving you," she told it. "You're an orphan now, so it's only fitting you come and live at an orphanage. At least until you can take care of yourself." With that she carefully made her way out of the bush and back towards the orphanage.

Up in her room she made a nest of sorts out of an old shirt and leaves she'd picked on her way back. She charmed the nest to the same temperature as her body when she was an owl and then transformed. Carefully, she plucked a couple loose feathers and pulled out some of her downy feathers and, letting instinct take over, arranged them to make a soft bed for her new charge. With a yawn, Briar transformed and curled around the box, gently stroking the soft, warm body.

'Name,' she thought dimly. 'Needs a name.'

* * *

Briar sat at her desk staring down at the list of attacks. She knew, thanks to Moody, that Voldemort's 'reign of terror' had lasted eleven years. That the first few years had just been Muggle terrorizing and recruitment and that the real trouble didn't begin until 1973, her parents, and now her, third year. She sighed and let her head bang onto the table.

No, knowing what _he_ was up to wasn't the hard part; getting help was. She had no idea when the Order of the Phoenix had been gathered, but she doubted it had formed before the first attack on magical people. That meant it was formed sometime between '73 and '78, most probably between '73 and '75. Which meant it didn't exist. . .yet, and when it did how many people were in it and who?********

Briar groaned. Why, oh why hadn't she asked more about the Order?

* * *

Briar waited as patiently as she could from her hiding spot.

'Any minute now.'

She glanced at the dimly lit street for what felt like the millionth time and was finally rewarded with the sight of her quarry.

"About bleeding time," she muttered as the man made his up the street and into a worn down building.

As soon as the door clicked shut she dashed forward and slapped a sticky note on the door, sprinting away as the runes activated and the building collapsed in an explosion of dust.

Back at the orphanage, Briar shut the window and breathed a sigh of relief. It didn't matter that she'd been doing it all most every night for the past year and a half, being the cause of someone's death never got any easier and left her feeling slightly sick.

Tugging off her shirt and grabbing her mirror, she inspected that small tattoo – like marks that kept track of the number of souls she'd delivered. The one on the right, representing magicals, remained unchanged at 433. The one on the left, representing non-magicals, read 4317.

"Just over a thousand," she mused, thinking back to the mark's original number of 5431. "Good, I'm ahead of schedule."

She rummaged in her bag, checking over her supplies.

"Ahhh! I'm out of sticky notes!" Briar had fallen in love with them; not only were the little things unbelievably useful for setting up traps, the only drawback being that the runes had to be drawn in blood (_'I wonder if I'll ever draw a rune that **isn't** in blood. .')_ since muggle paper didn't have the magical properties of parchment, but they could be stuck anywhere and didn't give off any magical signature.

Finding a non-traceable method had become a top priority after nearly being caught by a ministry official sent to investigate the increasing number of muggle deaths that coincided with flashes of magic.

With a sigh she flopped on the bed, content to pout about the problem for awhile, and hopefully get some sleep. Unfortunately for her, her feathery charge had other plans.

Seraph landed on her head and began pecking at her, none too gently, hopping and fluttering out of reach every time Briar swatted at him. In other words, the usual wakeup call she got from the tawny owl.

"All right, all right already," she grumbled, sitting up and grabbing Seraph by his feet. "I don't know what possessed me to name you after an angel. I only ever get grief from you. Perhaps I should rename you?"

He hooted pitifully, giving her the owl version of puppy eyes.

"Oh, all right, you're all still my little angel."

Seraph rubbed his head against Briar' nose and she let him go. Placing her bag on the desk her eyes fell on the letter she'd received a week ago. Picking it up, she read, for the twelfth time,

_To Ms. Briar Fable,_

_Southern most bedroom on the second floor_

_St. Mary's Orphanage, Gladden Glade_

On the back, was a seal made of four animals: a griffin, a snake, a badger, and an eagle, all surrounding a large, capital 'H'.

Sensing her mixed emotions, Seraph landed on the desk and rubbed against her. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, little one. How about we try to get some sleep? It's still dark and tomorrow is going to be a big day." She carried him back to the bed, and lay down. Seraph made himself comfortable on Briar's head board while Briar buried herself under the blankets. Closing her eyes, she couldn't help but be thankful Seraph was acting like a magical owl and was content to sleep during night and day.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

*** **As far as I know this isn't a real place. If it is, well - Oops!

**** **Given Briar/Rose's history with the Dursleys, I believe she would have very strong feelings about this particular crime.

******* The American equivalent is 5th grade.

****** **In the 5th book Rowling tells us who all was in the Order _eventually_, but I doubt the same people in the photo Moody showed Harry were the first to be recruited just the ones that survived for photo. The reason for this is the addition of Harry's parents and Sirius and Remus who, by the sound of it, joined an already operating Order. If I'm wrong please correct me.


	4. Meeting McGonagall

**Meeting McGonagall**

* * *

Briar paced the front porch in a vain attempt to calm her nerves. It had been two hours and forty –three minutes and so far it hadn't helped. She bit her lip and wondered (again) who they would send to 'introduce' her to the magical world.

Her fingers twitched, itching to scratch her face. Merlin, did make-up feel weird! With a sigh she readjusted the cap on her head and then readjusted her glasses. They were a different pair than she usually wore; plain and non-magical with the lenses just slightly tinted to make the color of her eyes indiscernible. She had decided it would draw more attention if whoever they sent couldn't remember anything about her or worse if they forgot about her. Now _that_ would draw far too much attention!

So in place of her regular means of anonymity she had a sports hat and carefully applied make-up that she'd swiped from one of the older girls to hide her scar. After all, just because she couldn't make herself _completely_ unnoticeable didn't mean she had to give them a reason to notice her, right?

The gate swung open and she turned so fast her neck cracked. Her breath caught as the woman made her way down the path, sun glinting of square spectacles and morning breeze tugging fruitlessly at the tight bun sitting on her head. The woman stopped and stared down at her.

"Briar Fable I presume?" The tone was clipped but gentle and she gave the barest ghost of a smile when Briar nodded. "I am Professor McGonagall."

The memories hit with a physical force strong enough to make her sway and it was through a sheer force of will that Briar kept herself from falling to her knees and giving into them.

* * *

One of Minerva McGonagall's favorite jobs as deputy headmistress was meeting muggle borns and being the first to show them the wonders and beauty of magic, and throughout her years, Minerva had seen and dealt with many reactions from both children and parents. It saddened her that the girl looked afraid and almost. . .in pain. She had paled to a shade that would make most vampires look tan and Minerva kept a close eye on her as she gave her usual reassurances and standard explanation, in case the child should faint.

By the time she'd finished enough of the girl's color had returned that she felt it safe to relax and asked if she would like a demonstration. The girl shook her head.

"I trust you."

Minerva almost shivered at the intensity of the words and quickly excused herself to speak to the matron. A short 20 minutes later they were walking into the Leaky Cauldron and all thoughts of the child were momentarily driven from her mind.

* * *

A swarm of people filled the bar, clustered in groups as they talked and waved pieces of paper at each other.

Briar tugged at her hat to hide her smile. Last night, knowing she would be coming here today, she'd flown all over Diagon Alley, dropping off the latest letter from the 'Guardian.'

As she followed her, once again, future professor through the pub she eagerly listened in on the different conversation, curious to know what kind of reactions her letters received.

"I'm not usually one to get involved in politics," a middle aged woman was saying, "but he makes some damn fine points."

"Yes," her friend agreed, "and the way he explains it, it's like common sense!"

A man slammed his hand down on the table, "I've had enough! If he thinks he can do a better job of running things then why doesn't he step up and do it?" His companions all murmured in agreement. "I don't know what the ministry thinks they're doing allowing a fool like this to. . ."

"It's a ploy I tell," a hysterical looking woman said shrilly. "A plot to get everyone to start practicing dark magic and. . ."

". . literally everywhere!" a woman was complaining. "Stuck on windows, doors, walls, everything!"

"You're telling me," her companion groaned. "The ministry is flooded with them! Every floor, every office, the atrium look like the Daily Prophet printing press exploded! And it's my department that has to get rid of them! And if that wasn't bad enough, then people start sending letter and the owls! Bloody feathers and droppings everywhere! But the worst are the howlers. They. . ." The door to the pub clicked shut behind them, leaving Briar and McGonagall in relative quiet.

"What are they talking about?" she asked, in the most innocently curious voice she could manage. McGonagall hesitated in the act of opening the wall to Diagon Alley. She lowered her wand, nodding to herself.

"There is much about our world I haven't told you," she began. "Partly because it would take far too long to tell every muggle born every single thing about the magical world and partly because not all aspects of our world are. . .pleasant." McGonagall paused, as if arranging her thoughts. "Right now a war is beginning; a war between those that follow the dark side of magic and those that follow the light side."

Privately, Briar thought the explanation was overly simplified and prejudice.

"For the past year or so, a certain individual-" Briar was secretly pleased that McGonagall hadn't said 'man,' "-has been leaving. . .letters around frequently visited places. Through these letters this person has given advice and suggestion on what can be done to keep people safe, end the war, and improve the magical world in general.

"However, some of the ideas are. . .radical, dealing with highly controversial topics within the magical world. As a result, these letters have become topics of conversations and arguments, and many people are uncertain what to think of this person."

When it looked as though McGonagall was done with her explanation Briar asked the question she was dying to know the answer to.

* * *

"What do _you_ think?" Minerva raised an eyebrow at the inflection.

"_I_ believe that it would be in your best interest to read what this person has written and research the topics. If nothing else it will give you something to think about and help you further understand the magical world." She turned to the wall. "I happen to agree with many of the suggestions." She tapped the bricks, missing the beaming smile the child gave her.

Their first stop was, of course, Gringotts where Minerva explained about goblins as they waited for the funds to be drawn from the scholarship vault. She was surprised at the lack of fear the girl showed the goblins, but said nothing.

Deciding it would be best to get the longest part over with first, she led the way down the street and into Ollivander's. She sat after explaining that the process of choosing a wand could be a lengthy one.

"Ah, but it is the wand that chooses the wizard," came a reedy voice from the back of the shop. "Or in this case, the witch." The speaker stopped behind the counter and stared at them.

"Good day, Ollivander."

"Minerva McGonagall. Mahogany and sliver of the horn of a unicorn; 12 and 5/8 inches; flexible, strong, reliable, surprisingly soft; excellent for transfiguration and dueling."

Minerva sighed, how many times had she heard that?

"Yes, and you," he looked over at the girl.

"Briar Fable," Minerva supplied when neither said anything.

"Ah, new blood." He rubbed his hands excitedly. "Very good, very good. Now, Ms. Fable, which is your wand arm?"

"I use both. . .to draw, but I favor my right."

"Very well," with a snap of his fingers a tape measure being circling around her and Minerva settled herself more comfortably. Nearly 45minutes later they left, both relieved it hadn't taken longer.

The rest of the trip went fairly quickly, though she did have to drag the child out both the apothecary and the menagerie. And she nearly lost her in Flourish and Blotts.

It was with a sense of relief and of a job well done that she returned the girl to the orphanage. Leaving quickly once she had un-shrunk the shopping and carefully explained how to get onto the platform.

The door clicked shut and Briar slowly counted to 100 before allowing her knees to give out and sink to the floor.

When she'd first seen McGonagall it had taken an enormous amount of effort not to crush the woman in a hug Mrs. Weasley would have been jealous of. It had taken her until McGonagall had come back from speaking to the matron to get her emotions in check and shove her memories as far back in her mind as possible. But now, alone, her restraint broke.

* * *

_McGonagall's eyes that had shown with pride and happiness when Harry had been made a Gryffindor, were tight with disappointment as she removed the hat from Rose's head and directed her to the Ravenclaw table.~ McGonagall telling her about her mother and all the trouble her father had gotten into. ~ McGonagall sat, quietly sipping tea as Rose paced her office, ranting about stupid boys who think taking on a snake alone is a __**good**__ idea. ~ McGonagall and Lupin arguing about who had gotten more detentions, their father or godfather, while she and Harry laughed. ~ McGonagall held her, hours after she'd watched her brother face down a dragon, while she cried out her fears and anger, not even reprimanding her as she cursed out 'those bastard Death Eaters and bloody dragons.' McGonagall calling her to her office the next day and offering to train her to be an animagus; 'to help those who can't seem to avoid trouble.' ~ McGonagall praising her progress. ~ McGonagall pacing her office, cursing out loud after Rose told her about the blood quill detentions. ~ McGonagall hitting the ground, her body still glowing from the four stunners. ~ McGonagall reminiscing about Rose's parents as they secretly watched Harry and Ginny walk alongside the lake. ~ McGonagall secretly passing her supplies for the students in hiding. ~ McGonagall standing tall and proud, her cane only adding to her intimidating air, as she directed staff and students to prepare for battle. ~ McGonagall's cry of agony when she saw Harry's body. ~ McGonagall stepping between her and Voldemort; giving her time to get to Harry's body and hopefully his wand. ~ McGonagall flying through the air. ~McGonagall's broken body sliding down the wall. ~ McGonagall telling her how proud she was. ~ McGonagall. . . staring lifelessly up at her. . ._

* * *

It was a long time before Briar noticed the three kits rubbing themselves against her; even longer before she dragged herself off the floor. But it wasn't until hours after she'd fallen into a fitful sleep that the tears stopped.


	5. Finding a Young, Old Face

**Finding a Young, Old Face**

* * *

It took the better part of three days for Briar to recover from seeing for former - now future - professor, and a week before she dared go back to Diagon Alley.

A recovered and grimly determined Briar appeared in an alley a block away from the Leaky Cauldron. She strode through the pub and tapped her wand against the bricks, breathing a sigh of contentment as the wall fell away. Finally she could come without anyone questioning how an obviously muggleborn child knew about the magical world.

Keeping one hand close to her money and her new wand in the other, she made her way to Gringotts. It was almost empty.

"Apparently," she mused, "Monday mornings are slow business days." She walked over to the nearest counter, quickly reviewing everything she knew and remembered about goblins.

"I request your time and services, gold keeper," she said in a firm, but polite, voice.

The goblin looked up, and then down.

"Yes, child?" the tone was not one of endearment.

"I would like to exchange some currency, open a vault, and deposit most."

Direct and to the point. The goblin gave a subtle nod of appreciation. "Very well."

Two hours later she left. 3000 pounds, exchanged for just under 700 galleons sitting in a vault and another 85 in a pouch she tied to her belt.*****

She skipped down the steps, relieved to be rid of the blood money she'd gotten by searching the bodies of her targets. An act that left her feeling immeasurably guilty, but she justified it by telling herself that they were evil and the money was going toward making the world a better place. A weak excuse, but it kept her from drowning in self loathing.

She stopped her skipping outside the lesser known robe shop McGonagall had taken her to for her school robes. Cut to Last sold pre-made robes, tailoring only when asked, making it cheaper than Madam Malkin's.

Briar paused outside the door and slipped on her rune covered glasses, having taken them off so as not to offend the goblins. They being able to see through many magical disguises and sense most other, and the blatant display of distrust made them grumpier and much harder to work with. Something Briar did not want to risk as they were difficult enough while in a good mood.

She tucked her hair under her hat and glanced at her reflection. An average looking, muggle boy with glasses stared back. Nodding in satisfaction Briar pushed the door open, making straight for the neutral colored robes.

* * *

Remus Lupin was having a very good day and a very bad day. He was having a good day as not only was he being allowed to go to Hogwarts, he was helping his parents shop for school supplies; which meant it was real and he was really going to Hogwarts. . .for real! It was a bad day because of the stress and strain of watching his parents go from over flowing with pride and happiness to worried and anxious, which was doing absolutely nothing for _his_ nerves. And to make things that much harder on him, he was trapped in a robe shop having to try on a new robe every other minute only to have his mother take one look at him and make him try on a new one - one that looked _exactly_ like all the others he'd tried on.

Mentally cursing his father for leaving him to face this torture alone, he seized the opportunity to slip away and hide while his mum was talking to the shop owner. Making himself comfortable behind a rack of neutral colored robes, he dozed off, only coming to when one of the robes he was hiding behind was moved and a beam of light hit his face.

Sitting up, he looked guiltily up at the person staring down at him, but instead of the angry mother he was expecting it was. . .

"Just a kid."

The kid laughed and he blushed realizing he must have spoken his thoughts out loud.

"Sorry to disappoint," the kid, maybe a boy, chuckled, "and while I agree that shopping is tiring, there are more comfortable places to rest. . .and hide, than the floor." The kid held out a hand and pulled Remus to his feet, still grinning.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean. . ."

The kid waved away his pathetic apology. "Its fine, can't tell you the number of times I've wanted to do that. Be grateful you're a boy and no one expects you to actually _help_ with or, Merlin forbid! know _anything_ about clothes."

Remus grinned shyly at his shoes, liking the kid's easy manner but unsure about how to make friends. Should he introduce himself? Surely that was a safe thing to do, right? It was the polite thing to do, but what if the . . .boy? girl? thought they were friends and - Oh who was he kidding? No one would want to be friends with him, even if they never found out about his. . .problem, his horrible ugly scars and weird habits would keep everyone away.

* * *

Briar frowned as she watched Remus' grin fade and his shoulders slump. She'd been so happy when she realized who the boy was, and only because of the scars crossing his face. Young Remus looked adorable and nothing like the world weary, near-broken man she'd met in her first life and Briar was going to do everything in her power to make sure _that_ Remus never existed. Starting with fixing whatever it was that had him looking so depressed.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

* * *

Remus looked up. The words were filled with so much concern he felt guilty for making someone worry about him.

"Nothing, just. . .not good at. . ." his voice trailed off. 'Merlin! Why was this so hard?'

"Do you know anything about Hogwarts?"

"Wha – yeah, loads."

"Oh good. I'm, what's the word? Muggle – raised? And just got my letter. I can't wait to go, but I don't really know anything about it. Will you tell me?" The excited, hopefulness of the words made Remus smile.

"You're a first year too? That's great! I'll tell you everything I know."

"Thank you," She squealed, and it was definitely a she, because she hugged him and Remus didn't know any boy that would hug anyone voluntarily.

"That's brilliant! Now, you talk while I shop." She started dragging him down the aisle. "And this way, as long as we keep moving and you don't talk too loud, we can avoid your mum." She winked at him and Remus surprised himself by laughing.

"Sounds like a plan. Well most of what I know I learned by reading Hogwarts: a History and. . ." Remus told the girl everything he knew about Hogwarts as she dragged him around the store, slipping through racks to avoid other customers.

They were soon hiding in the changing room, having spotted Remus' mother, arms loaded with robes, moving in their direction. They were sitting side by side, feet tucked up underneath them so they wouldn't be seen under the curtain. The girl turned to look at him and his hand rose, automatically trying to hide the scars on his face.

"Stop that," she said grabbing his wrist and pulling. "You've been doing that all day, every time I look at you and it's getting bloody annoying, so knock it off!" She glared at him until he lowered his hand, blushing. "There that's better. Now, why are you trying to hide such a cute face?"

"Cuz I'm ugly.******" The words were out of his mouth he could stop them and he stared in horror as her mouth fell open.

"What the. . .? How in. . .? Who told you. . .?" she spluttered, before shaking her head. "Why do you _think_ you're ugly?"

He shrugged, cursing himself for his slip.

"Did someone tell you that? Your father? Your mother? You tell me right now and I'll –"

"No one told me, just am." He waited with his head buried in his arms for her to leave, to realize the truth and walk away in disgust.

"That is the biggest load of dragon dung ever."

He jerked up in surprise.

"'Just am,'" she repeated scornfully. "I see nothing about you that is remotely unappealing let alone ugly. In fact I think you're pretty cute."

He gaped at her.

"So I'll ask you again, why do you_ think_ . . .**_that_**?" Her arms were crossed and her tone dared him _not_ to answer or worse, say something stupid.

"Scar, I'm. . .scars." she blinked at him, then sighed.

"Remus, you're an idiot. Scars don't make you ugly and saying that is saying that I'm ugly because, look," she took off her glasses and pushed her hat back, revealing a thin, white scar cutting across her left eye. Remus stared at. "Do you think I'm ugly, Remus?"

Remus blinked. "Wha -? No! you – you're, beau –pretty!"

She laughed softly, tugging her hat back into place. "Beautiful? But I've got a scar."

Remus flinched. "On you it's pretty," he muttered, eye downcast.

She laughed, fully this time. "So, I'm beautiful and my scar is pretty?"

He nodded, blushing.

"Would you believe me," she asked in a soft voice, "if I told you, you're cute and your scars are adorable?"

He looked at her disbelievingly.

"It's true, look!" She turned his head so he could see his reflection in the floor – length mirror.

"See? A full head of hair that's soft and the perfect color." She said, ruffling it. "Eyes that are sparkling with life and the color of gold, and everyone _loves_ shiny, golden things! A nose that's not too big and not too small; a face with just the right amount of freckles; a mouth that gives the absolute best smiles and the warmest laughs ever!"

Remus sat there listening as she talked, desperately hoping, yet not daring to believe, that what she said was true.

". . .and as for your scars? Well, I already told said they're adorable and I think they make you look impish, and in the future instead of being cute and adorable, you'll be handsome and your scars will make you look brave and roughish. Girls love handsome, brave, roughish men!" She winked and he laughed in spite of himself.

"Rou – roughish? What does that even me –"

"Remus John Lupin! You come out this minute!" they both jumped and Remus scrambled to his feet to open the door, revealing a very annoyed and angry Mrs. Lupin. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Searching all over the store and only to find you hiding in a changing room?"

Remus tried to apologize, but his mother cut him off. "No, I don't want to hear any excuses, but since you seem to enjoy the changing room so much, here!" she shoved a towering stack of robes into his arms. "I expect you to try them _all_ on and pick out the three you like best. I'll be back in 10 minutes with cloaks and Merlin help you if you aren't out here waiting when I get back!"

With a huff, Mrs. Lupin turned and stomped away, completely missing the young girl struggling not to laugh.

Remus closed the door with a sigh and jumped, dropping the robes, as laughter exploded from the forgotten occupant.

"So," she managed between giggles, "that was your mother?"

Remus nodded stiffly, his face a bright scarlet as he picked up the robes.

"Lovely woman." He glared at the too innocent tone and she laughed again. "Here let me help."

She snatched up the last of the robes and helped him arrange them neatly into a pile.

"Well, I'll take that as my cue to leave, Bye!"

"Bye – Wait!"

"Yes?"

"What's your name?"

She looked at him, head tilted to the side.

"Tell you what," she said after a minute of silence. "You find me again at Hogwarts, I'll tell you. Deal?" and without waiting for an answer she left.

Remus smiled as he pulled on the first robe and sniffed at the air. Her scent still hung heavy in the air, a mix of trees and wild roses with a hint of something bird-like.

"Deal." There would be no way he wouldn't find the first person, aside from his parents, to treat him as if he was worth anything.

* * *

Briar cursed. As happy as she was to have spent time with Remus, she had been careless, calling him by name several times. 'Thank Merlin he didn't notice!' But she had been anything but forgettable and now she would have to find a way to cover her scent so he wouldn't be able to find her. Sighing she added it to her ever growing list of things to do.

Briar leaned against the wall of a side alley, thinking over the things she'd told him. Words that were remarkably similar to what a much older and greyer Remus had told once her.

* * *

_Rose sighed, she had just finished reassuring Ginny (again) that yes, she was beautiful and no, Harry was not in love with anyone else, he was just being an oblivious and blind idiot. Yes, her hair was beautiful. No, it wasn't too red. Yes, her eyes were lovely and she was a great catch if only Harry would open his eyes._

_Rose sighed again, it wasn't that she minded helping Ginny and Hermione with their insecurities and reassuring them it was just that. .._

_"__I wish someone would tell me __**I**__ was beautiful."_

_"__Your wish is my command."_

_Rose jumped, spinning towards the source of the quiet voice._

_"But, first perhaps you could tell me why you find it necessary to be __**told**__ such a thing?" Rose blushed as Remus sat down across from her, and refused to meet his gaze. "Rose?"_

_She fidgeted and mumbled a reply._

_"__Sorry I didn't quite catch that."_

_She glowered at him. __"__Maybe because nobody's ever told me."_

_It was hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice, and the look on Remus' face said she hadn't succeeded._

_"__Well, allow me be to be the first. Rose you are beautiful." He said it such a serious voice she laughed._

_"__Thanks Remus, but it's kind of hard to believe that's true, if I have to ask for it."_

_He chuckled softly._

_"__Yes, I suppose that's true. Well then, perhaps. . . Ah yes, here." He conjured a mirror and handed it to her. "Now, what do you see?"_

_"__Me?"_

_His lips twitched. __"__I would hope so. Well, what I see is a young woman, with lively hair-"_

_"What a nice way of saying forever unmanagable."_

_"-strong, bright eyes filled with hope and love, a cute little nose, and a smile that would make an angel jealous."_

* * *

She scrubbed her eyes. It was the first and last time anyone had told she was beautiful. Taking a steadying breath she pushed herself off the wall and made her way back into the Alley.

Fortunately the rest of her stops were quick and devoid of people she knew and she was able to avoid running into the Lupin family again.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

***** I'm not exactly sure if Rowling ever made an exchange rate for galleons to pounds, so I just went with what made most sense based on what I know of the gold exchange market, which isn't a whole lot.

**** **I see Remus having a **lot** of self image and self-esteem issues as a child, at least that's the impression I got from reading the books. Sorry if he seems a bit soft and I know the chapter was kinda mushy, but don't worry any of you Tonks/Remus shippers, I don't plan on having my OC and Remus as a couple. Just building a back story.


	6. On the Train

**On the Train**

* * *

Briar arrived at Kings Cross 3 hours before the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave. There was almost no one there and she slipped onto the train unnoticed, claiming the compartment at the very end of the train. Briar whiled away the time playing with her owl and keeping one eye on the platform. By 10 it was swarming with people and she cast a notice – me – not and a small compulsion charm on the door to keep people from trying to enter, and slipped out of the compartment, asking Seraph to guard it until she came back.

She stopped by the restroom and checked her disguise to be sure it was in place. She'd cast several glamours that had changed her lengthened hair a much lighter shade of golden brown and darkened her skin a few shades. With a couple of sweaters on underneath her robes giving her extra weight and her tinted glasses, it was unlikely anyone would connect this person to Briar Fable.

She stayed in the restroom until she felt the train move before she began her search. It took a good 20 minutes, 5 elbows to the ribs, and 8 stepped on toes before she found him, sitting across from a girl with long, red hair.

Taking a deep breath and casting a notice – me – not on the door to avoid interruptions, she entered the compartment.

* * *

Severus Snape looked up as the door slid open.

"Do you mind if I sit here for awhile?"

Severus sneered, out of reflex, as the girl peered shyly at them from behind over grown bangs.

"Of course not! We've got plenty of room," the red haired girl exclaimed.

Severus sent his best friend an exasperated look that she completely missed as she bounded to her feet and pulled the stranger into the compartment.

"Thanks, I wasn't sure my toes could handle being stepped on one more time and I have no idea where my compartment is!"

"No problem, by the way I'm Lily, Lily Evans, and this is my best friend Severus Snape. We're first years."

"Oh, you're first years too? So am I! What house do you think you'll be in?"

Severus' eyes narrowed slightly as the girl casually avoided giving her name, but he shrugged it off in favor of listening to Lily's answer. He'd asked her that same question many times himself and each time she had a different answer.

"I'm not really sure, maybe Ravenclaw since I like to read, but probably Hufflepuff since the only thing I'm good at is working –" Severus snorted and Lily ignored him. "– but in all honesty I don't know, they each sound wonderful."

The girl nodded understandingly, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Though personally, I'm hoping for Ravenclaw or Gryffindor since the Hufflepuff and Slytherin dorms are underground and I don't like the idea of being buried."

"How do you know that?" Severus asked, curious despite his dislike of anyone who chose a house for such a stupid reason.

"I've got an older brother in Hogwarts," she explained as both girls turned to face him, "and he told me. So what about you? Where do you want to go?"

"Slytherin," he answered smugly.

"Really? Why?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, but couldn't detect anything but honest curiosity.

"It's the house of cunning and ambition, surely your brother told you that?" he sneered.

"Severus! That wasn't nice," Lily scolded, but the girl just chuckled.

"Yes, at least a hundred times seeing as that's his house."

Severus tilted his head, reevaluating.

"Anyway," she continued, "if you're serious I should probably tell you what my brother told me: do whatever you can to stay out."

"Why? Is he afraid of being underground too?" he asked scathingly and crossed his arms. The seriousness of her tone set him on edge.

"If only," she muttered. "No, my brother is one of the bravest people I know and too full of pride and stupidity to be afraid of most things; that's why I know he was being serious when he said he was afraid.

"He says that everyone in Slytherin is being pressured to join," she lowered her voice so far Severus had to lean forward to hear, "Voldemort."

"Who?" Lily asked, just as quietly.

"Voldemort, the dark wizard that's trying to start a war. My brother says some of the upper years call him the 'Dark Lord' and that's how you can tell whose already joined him. He says he has to be careful not to say anything bad about him or he'll be cursed. . ._again_."

Lily looked between the two of them with wide – eyed horror.

"Yeah right, I bet he just got in a fight and didn't want to get in trouble."

The girl fixed him with a long stare and he swallowed; it was the same look his mother got whenever his father left to get drunk. A look that said she knew what was going to happen and it wouldn't be good.

"My brother doesn't lie." The words were chillingly soft and he couldn't doubt the truth of them. She leaned back.

"I suggest aiming for Ravenclaw. After all," She continued in a normal voice, striking a haughty pose, "cunning and ambition are worthless if you don't have the knowledge and wisdom to use them."

Lily laughed as the girl shoved her nose so far into the air it was pointed at the ceiling, and the tension broke. Severus let a small smile creep onto his face as he watched her.

The girl gasped and grabbed Lily's arm. "Did you see that? He smiled!"

Severus scowled at her and she laughed.

"Oh don't do that Sev! You look so cute when you smile."

He felt his face flush and the girls laughed harder.

"My name," he said stiffly, "is _Severus_ not Sev."

"Aww, but I like it," Lily pouted. "It suits you."

The girls looked at each other, he had a sneaking suspicion they were communicating _somehow_, and then nodded.

"Yep, from now on you're, 'Sev.'"

He spluttered indignantly and the girls laughed again.

"Well, my brother's probably wondering where I am so I'll see you guys at the sorting." She left with a wave.

It was several minutes later that Lily bolted up in her seat with a gasp.

"Oh no! She never told use her name."

Severus, now Sev, just rolled his eyes. '_Now_ she notices.'

* * *

Briar closed the door and removed the charms before making her way back to her compartment.

Hopefully that would give him something to think about, and hopefully she had managed to convince him Slytherin was a bad idea. That much she owed him.

* * *

_Snape sneered down at her as he called her name, spitting the word 'Potter' like a vile curse. ~ Snape appearing behind her as she raged at a red faced Harry, Ron and Draco calling them 'stupid, stuck up, idiotic, arrogant toe rags.' ~ Snape giving her a small smirk when he caught her charming Lockhart's books to chase after and bite him. ~ Snape standing between her and a recently transformed and raging werewolf. ~ Snape's handwriting on the back of a photo of a young girl with long red hair and Harry's eyes telling her many things about her mother. ~ Snape's eyes narrowing as he spotted the marks on the back of her hand left by the blood quill. ~ Snape passing back her graded potion and finding essence of murtlap inside. ~ Snape passing her in the hall and later finding a book on defensive spells and techniques in her bag; advice, tips, and suggestions scribbled in the margins in his handwriting. ~ Snape snatching up her notes and sneering at them before dropping them back on the desk; later finding an extra page tucked in between them, detailing techniques on subterfuge. ~ Snape flying through the air as Dumbledore's body lay broken on the ground. ~ Finding Snape's memories in the pensive after the funeral. ~ Snape telling the Carrows he would be dealing with her 'detentions' personally. ~ Snape teaching her how to treat dark curses. ~ Snape locking her in the headmaster's office when the fighting began and hours later feeling spells break. ~ Snape's body lying in a pool of blood. . ._

* * *

She took a steadying breath and made her way back down the train. If her little talk hadn't helped there was always plan B. As she walked she glanced into the various compartments and nearly had heart attack when she spotted a head of messy, black hair.

"Harry?!"

The boy's head turned and she blinked. No, not Harry, but definitely a Potter.

James Potter was bouncing up and down in his seat and throwing candy at another dark haired boy who looked very familiar. Shaking her head she forced her feet to move and it wasn't until she was several cars away that she realized who the boy was.

Sirius Black.


	7. Sorting

**Sorting**

* * *

The train jerked to a stop and Briar cursed softly as her fingers slipped and the end of her braid unraveled. Deciding it would take too much time to redo it she tied it off before it could unravel further and glanced at her reflection. Her skin was back to its natural color, her regular glasses back on her nose, and her hair its original shade of brown, though much longer than it had been two months ago.

After her run in with Remus she had decided to let it grow out, with help, in the hopes it would make it would make it harder for him to find her. She silently prayed he would give up if he didn't see her at the sorting.

She spun towards her trunk, her once barely shoulder length hair now braided and elbow length. After making sure all her. . ._unusual_ possessions were safely tucked away in a magically expanded and sealed box, she slammed the lid shut and locked it. She gave Seraph a quick scratch.

Making sure to remove all her spells from the door, Briar hurried to the group of first years making their way down the uneven path to the lake and the boats that would give them their first look at Hogwarts. She climbed into a boat, being careful none of her fellow passengers were people she recognized.

The ride across the lake was long, giving Briar plenty of time to swallow her tears at seeing the castle whole and in all its glory. The boats bumped against the shore and she took advantage of the jostling to surreptitiously wipe her eyes.

As they climbed the steps, she kept an eye out for Remus, making sure there were plenty of people between the two of them. She had yet to figure out a way to effectively cover her scent. They were greeted by McGonagall who gave them an achingly familiar speech and led them into the Great Hall. Briar's heart started pounding as she took in the familiar sights and sounds.

* * *

"Black, Sirius!"

Sirius' heart hammered against his chest as he walked up to the stool.

'Ah, a Black? Normally your name alone would send you to Slytherin.'

Sirius' heart plummeted, but before he could argue, plead, even beg, the Hat continued.

'Relax child, it is all too clear that you do not belong in that house. Subtle as an angry hippogriff you are! No, I believe you wear best the traits of. . .'

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius beamed even as the hall fell silent. After nearly a minute a voice near the door spoke.

"Well, I gotta say the enthusiasm of this place is simply _overwhelming_."

Tension and silence broke as people began laughing at the sarcastic remark, and a smattering of applause quickly followed as Sirius made his way to the red and gold table. Sitting down, he silently thanked whoever it was that had spoken.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore smiled as he watched the boy make his way down to his new table. He'd been about to something himself, but it appeared his intervention wasn't needed.

He leaned back, watching as a young boy with messy hair stared open – mouthed as a 'Evans, Lily' skipped over to the Gryffindor table. His smile widened, for unless he was mistaken (which really didn't happen that often) that was the beginning of a crush.

He refocused his attention on the young girl sitting down in front of him. He just had time to glimpse a pair of silver, half – moon glasses before the Sorting Hat descended. He mentally congratulated her on her excellent choice of eye–wear, fingering a similar pair perched upon his own crooked nose as he waited.

He almost jumped in surprise when, after nearly 10 minutes, the hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

Remus scanned the group of first years looking for the mysterious girl he'd met over 2 months ago. He'd seen a girl with glasses, but he hadn't seen a scar and her hair had been too long, coming down to her elbows. Remus was sure his. . .friend? had short hair.

"Lupin, Remus!"

He jumped as his name was called and hurried to the waiting hat. His eye searched the group again from his new vantage point before the Hat descended and all he could see was darkness.

'My, my,' a voice said in his ear. 'Such loyalty already? And to someone whose name you do not even know?'

Remus squirmed.

'Ah, but I can see she has done a great deal for you already in that one meeting. Hmm, yes, loyalty well deserved, but I wonder if she knows much she has. . No, I don't think so.'

'Excuse me,' Remus was loath to interrupt anyone, even a hat. 'Do you know who she is?'

The Sorting Hat chuckled. 'Yes, but I shan't tell you.'

'But –'

'No. You made an agreement and I will not betray someone's privacy. Now, hush and let me sort you.'

Remus sighed but remained silent.

'Thank you. Now let's see, normally with such loyalty I'd say you were a born Hufflepuff, but I happen to know both what you seek and the acceptance you long for can be found in. .

"GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

Severus waited anxiously as his fellow first years were sorted, his heart sinking a little as Lily was made a Gryffindor. He knew he would never make it into that house. As he watched person after person get sorted he replayed the conversation he'd had with the strange girl on the train and felt uncertainty set in.

He looked over at the Slytherin table. It was certainly true that they _looked_ meaner than the other houses, but who was he to judge people based on appearances? Then again, many of those upper years definitely seemed capable of cursing someone and enjoying it.

Severus shuddered, remembering the look in the girl's eyes as she'd said her brother was _in_ Slytherin and that he'd been cursed.

"Snape, Severus!"

Severus jerked his head away from the Slytherin table and made his way up to the waiting professor. With each step the girls' words rang in his ears and he could feel her looking at him with that grimly honest stare. It was a relief to escape into the darkness of the Sorting Hat.

'Oh my, you are a bit of a mess right now, are you not?'

Severus sneered into the darkness. Of course the hat would mock him. 'Stupid, flea invested, stuck – up–'

'None of that now! I was referring to your mental state, child, as your mind is filled with confusion and doubt. Yes, she said it might be hard for you,' the Hat mused. 'While normally I frown upon such claims, sadly this time it seems to be true.'

'So she was right? Slytherin is dangerous?' Severus' heart sank. He had so wanted to be in his mother's old house, but he had lived with danger all his life and had no wish to continue that trend here.

'Calm yourself, Mr. Snape. I have no desire to place you in Slytherin. However the final decision is yours and you do hold those qualities that Slytherin prizes in spades. If you wish it –'

'No! Not Slytherin, please not Slytherin.'

'Very well, is there another house you desire?'

Severus' mind drifted over to the Gryffindor table where Lily sat, but he knew he would never be able to make into the house of courage.

'Honestly, child, you are much too hard on yourself. Believe me when I say courage is not a trait you are lacking. Now, tell me, aside from maintaining your friendship with Ms. Evans, what is it you want?'

Severus thought it over, all his reasons for coming, his hopes and desires, his ~

'Ah, a very strong desire to prove yourself, again,' the Hat sighed, 'a trait Salazar would have begged for, but I believe your young friend said it best when she said ambition is worthless without the knowledge to use it.'

* * *

Lily sat staring anxiously up at where Severus sat, face hidden by the Sorting Hat. She would never admit it, but the strange girl from the train's words scared her and she desperately hoped that the Hat wouldn't send him to Slytherin.

She had told the Hat, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted Sev to be happy and she didn't think he'd be happy in Slytherin. If that Hat put him there and he suffered, she would find away to make the Hat pay because she knew, even if Sev would never tell her, that he had it hard at home, and she wanted her friend to feel happy and safe. The Sorting Hat had laughed and said that that much loyalty would make Hufflepuff proud, but anyone who would threaten him (and mean it) belonged in Gryffindor.

Lily chewed her lip. Sev had been up there an awful long time.

'Not Slytherin,' she silently pleaded. 'Please anywhere but Slytherin.'

The Hat opened its mouth and bellowed, "RAVENCLAW!"

* * *

Severus' ears were ringing as the Hat was removed from his head and he collapsed onto the bench of the cheering table, both relieved and disappointed. He looked over to where Lily was sitting and caught her eye. She gave him a beaming smile and two thumbs up, silently mouthing _'I'm so happy_!' He smiled back.

'It's nice,' he decided, 'to have someone worry about you.'

Food appeared on the table and loaded his plate, determined to have a decent meal. Absently he wondered who the mysterious girl had been. The way the hat spoke it was as if he'd met her, which meant she must have been sorted before him. But he was certain he hadn't seen her.

"Who are you?" Severus muttered into his goblet, and though he didn't know it, it was a question shared by another; along with the determination to find the answer.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat down, after delivering his usual short speech, and the food appeared, his stomach growling. The Sorting had taken a surprising long time, one of the longest he had sat through, including his own. As he ate, his surveyed the new first years wondering what the Hat had seen in them and what kind of surprises the year would bring.


	8. Settling Into Gryffindor

**Settling Into Gryffindor**

* * *

Seraph woke Briar in his usual way: by pecking her head and hopping on her until she opened her eyes. She sat up groaning and shoved the owl away.

"All right already. I'm up." As Seraph congratulated himself on his success, Briar rubbed the last of the sleep from her eye and froze. The whole world was red.

With a shout she drew both wands out from under her pillow and leapt to her feet. After several minutes of staring around and nothing happening, the memories of the previous night returned and she flopped back down on the bed. Sighing, Briar carefully placed her wands to the side, grateful she'd had the foresight to cast silencing spells around her bed.

Pulling the curtains apart she glanced around the room. Everyone was still asleep and the clock above the door read 5:30. She pulled her head back and turned to the kits.

"You do know breakfast doesn't start until 7, right? And not only that, but since when have I _ever_ gotten up before 6?!"

Seraph simply cocked his head as if to say, "and your point is. . .?"

"Fine, be that way! But since I'm up I'm finishing your collar." The threat had no effect.

Grumbling to herself, Briar slipped out of bed and over to her trunk. Opening it as quietly as she could and pulling out a black box roughly the same size and shape of a large book. She set it and the day's clothes on her bed, before locking everything back up. Making sure the curtains were securely closed, she unlocked the box.

She'd based the box on Mad–Eye Moody's trunk, only instead of compartments accessed by key; she used magically expanded trays stacked on top of each other. They didn't hold as much as a trunk, but were far more portable. The first tray held all the notes and supplies she needed for whatever project she was currently working on, in this case a 'collar' for her owl.

She pulled out the items she'd bought at the pet shop in Diagon Alley and got to work. She'd wanted to finish it on the train but had been too distracted and nervous to focus, but it was mostly done already, and it only took her 20 minutes to finish them.

"All right, come here."

The 'collar' was actually two over lapping pieces of leather that crossed over Seraph's body forming an 'X.' Briar spent a few minutes adjusting to make sure it wasn't too tight or too loose and that it wouldn't be in the way, before leaning back to inspect her work. The brown leather bands blended nicely with the brown and grey feathers and the two, small circles of metal embedded on the bands, one on each, gave the 'collar' an almost regal air.

Briar smiled at the name tag. The shop owner had looked at her in amusement when she described what she wanted, but Briar liked it. One metal tab had a simple raised outline of a halo. On the other, was Seraph's name. The metal tabs only had one spell on it, the original tracking spell the shop owner had put on them. However, Briar had tweaked it using the techniques Sirius had taught her.

_"__Every good prankster should know how to manipulate a spell to their advantage."_

Now it was two way, allowing Briar to find Seraph and Seraph to find her wherever either of them were, even if it wasn't necessary for the owl as he always seemed to know where Briar was.

As for the 'collar' itself, Briar had scratched every protection rune she knew onto the inside of the bands. Her little angel would be safe.

"Well, what do you think?"

Seraph hooted his pleasure and rubbed his feathered head against Briar's cheek.

"I'm glad you like them," she laughed and slipped on the matching leather bracelet, securing it around her upper arm where it would hopefully go unnoticed. "There, now you'll be able to find me, no matter where I go. Not that you can't already." Seraph gave her an affectionate nip.

After shooing him away to go explore the castle and checking to make sure her roommates were still asleep, Briar pulled out a roll of parchment and wrote out four sets of runes; deciding that they would be less noticeable than spells. She carefully cut them out and attached one runic circle to each of the top of the four posts, facing them toward the bed. The runes were the same as the ones on her glasses; acting like a notice – me – not charm that strengthened the longer you were exposed to it until you simply stopped looking and the object, or person in this case, became forgotten. Underneath she attached compulsion runes, so that anyone other than her or Seraph coming towards the bed would suddenly remember something urgent and rush off or else forget why they were over there.

By the time she was done her roommates were waking up. It took a good 30 minutes before the girls were ready and they were able to follow a prefect down to the Great Hall. While they walked the girls introduced themselves and asked each other questions, as they'd been too tired to do so the night before.

Briar carefully avoided asking questions, and gave short, general answers to those directed at her.

It wasn't until after they'd received their time schedules that their male counterparts showed up. James and Sirius rushing in and dragging a wet looking Remus into the hall, sitting him between them and giggling manically. She smiled into her goblet, pleased that they seemed to have already accepted him and not doubting for a minute that they were up to something. Idly wondering what they were planning, she got up and trailed after the group of girls searching for their first class.

* * *

Most of the classes were so much like her original first year that Briar resigned herself to a long year of boredom. The exceptions being Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and History of Magic.

Defense being taught by Professor Biner, a 40 something woman who was so completely different than Quirrell that Briar was eager to see what the class would be like.

Potions was taught by Professor Slughorn who started off the class by going over safety and basic potion making techniques. Something Briar wished Snape had done with his first years as it would have saved her a great deal of time and effort.

While History of Magic was, unfortunately, taught by the perilously boring Binns, Briar had decided _this_ would be the one class she would get all Os in. Ignoring Binns as he droned on putting even the most eager students to sleep, Briar used her artistic skills to animate her notes; covering them in roughly drawn cartoons of goblins and long dead wizards.

In each class Briar sat off to the side and in the middle, having decided she would slowly make her way toward the back of the class, just as she would gradually shorten her hair back to its original unisex length.

* * *

It was his second morning at Hogwarts and Sirius already felt like a king. Not only was he _not_ in Slytherin, but he was a Gryffindor! Just like he'd always dreamed of being. He shared a dorm with his best friend James and a great new friend, Remus. And to make it even better he and James already had a prank in the making. All in all, Sirius didn't think anything could spoil his good mood.

A large, black owl landed in front of him holding a bright red letter.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, good mood officially gone.

"Jeez, Sirius, a Howler already?" James exclaimed, with a laugh. "We haven't even done anything yet!"

Remus looked at him in alarm as both of them edged away from Sirius and the now smoking letter.

With a disgruntled hoot, the owl dropped the Howler and took off, cuffing Sirius on the head with its wing.

"Cover your ears," Sirius warned, "she likes to scream."

The three boys just managed to cover their ears before it exploded.

**_"_****_SIRIUS ORION BLACK! HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE YOUR FAMILY IN SUCH A WAY, DRAGGING THE MOST ANCIENT AND NOBLE NAME OF BLACK THROUGH THE MUD! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE COMPLETELY DISAPPIONTED IN YOU! YOU WILL NOT BECOMING HOME FOR__ YULE__ANYTHING__ TO FURTHER SHAME THIS FAMILY YOU CAN BE CERTAIN THE SUMMER WILL BE A LONG AND UNPLEASANT ONE!"_**

Mrs. Black's voice echoed through the Great Hall as the letter burst into flame.

"'Cover your ears, she likes to scream?'" Remus' voice carried easily in the silent hall. "Really, Sirius, you could have warned us your mother was a _banshee_!"

Several people laughed and talk resumed. Sirius shot Remus a grateful smile before turning to where James was rolling with laughter. "Bet I can get more Howlers than you."

James turned instantly serious.

"You're on, but this one doesn't count!"

"Ah!" Sirius pouted, while Remus groaned and buried his face in hands, muttering about his not being able to hear by the end of the year.

* * *

It was in Friday morning's Transfiguration class that the first years were told to cast their first spell. Briar stared at the match in front of her and then down at her wand. It sat innocently in her hand; 11 and ¾ inches, Rowan with a demiguise fur core. So similar to another wand of 11 and ½ inches, Rowan with a unicorn hair core; so similar and yet. . .so different. She had yet to use it, relying on the ebony wand she had gotten from the Death Eater over two years ago. She fingered it, feeling the warm thrum, and looked around.

Professor McGonagall was making her way around, checking grips and correcting pronunciations, while students waved their wands around and shouted at their matches. So far none of them had managed to transfigure a needle out of them. James coming closest with a partial transfiguration.

Briar groaned as she faced her match again. She had opted to be the forth to get a spell right, since nobody cared about forth place. No, they only paid attention to the first three and the last one or two, which meant being forth was the soonest she could do a spell, correctly anyway. She sighed. It was such a ridiculously easy spell she could probably do it silently.

Her eyes widened. Why _not_ do it silently? Silent spell casting was something she needed to practice and it would give her something to do while she waited.

Briar glanced around. McGonagall was still a row away and her desk mate was shouting so loud no one would be able to hear her even if she did say something. Raising her wand, she gave herself the added challenge of transfiguring it piece by piece instead of all at once.

By the end of the class she'd managed to silently transfigure half the match, a millimeter at a time, into a needle. Pocketing it for 'practice' later, she happily followed the crowd of hungry students down to the Great Hall.

Briar was half way through dinner when there was a series of explosions, accompanied by large clouds of dust that bloomed out from under a good number of seats. Many people screamed and shouted as they jumped up from their seats. At first nothing seemed wrong, until one of the victims turned around and his friends saw the brightly colored stain splashed across the seat his pants.

As laughter exploded across the Great Hall, Briar glanced down the Gryffindor table. Sirius and James looked remarkably smug next to a worried looking Remus. Chuckling softly, Briar began to plan. She would give them three, three pranks and then the little mischief makers would be the ones surprised. The only question now, was how to keep it from getting out of hand.

* * *

Remus sat down, studiously ignoring his two roommates who were still congratulating each other on their third successful prank in two weeks before challenging each other to a food eating contest. He sighed, but smiled in spite of himself. They were crazy, with non – stop energy that left him tired just watching them, and they were always dragging him around and trying to get him involved in their hair – brained schemes, and. . .he couldn't be happier.

"Don't forget to breathe you two. You're turning purple." They blinked up at him, before turning to stare at each other.

"HA! He's right, you are purple!" Sirius shouted, spraying food with each word.

"Who are you laughing at?" James retorted. "Plum Face!"

Sirius gasped and grabbed his goblet, staring at his reflection as he ran a purpling hand over his matching face and through bright orange hair.

"NOOOO! Not the hair!" Sirius shout of horror was the first as, one by one, students and staff alike turned a sparkling shade of purple with neon orange hair.

Once everyone was sporting the new look a large, equally bright purple ribbon appeared in the air and wove itself into words.

**Greetings Hogwarts Dwellers,**

**We have decided that such pranking of the illustrious**

**Staff and students of Hogwarts cannot go unanswered.**

**Therefore we hereby challenge these pranksters to a prank war!**

**The terms being thus:**

**All pranks must be in good taste.**

**(If you wouldn't do it to your friend, don't do it to anyone else)**

**Pranks must not discriminate between years or house.**

**No one must be harmed as a result of a prank.**

**If a prank is used as revenge or punishment, it should fit the crime.**

**A prank should not intentionally disrupt a class without good reason.**

**Happy Mischief Making,**

_**Renegade**_**

James and Sirius grinned at each other and then at Remus.

"Oh no," Remus held up his hands, orange hair flying as he shook his head. "No, no, no, no! You are _not_ –"

He yelped as they hauled him to his feet shouting, "Challenge accepted!"

Silence fell as all eye turned to them.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black!" Professor McGonagall descended, managing to look intimidating even with sparkling purple skin and bright orange hair. "And Mr. Lupin? Am I to understand that you three are responsible for the past several pranks?"

The grins on James' and Sirius' faces and the guilty look on Remus' was all the answer she needed; the answering "Yep!" just fueled her rant.

Briar laughed as she listened to McGonagall light into the boys and glanced at the fading, purple ribbon. She hoped that by public stating what was and wasn't an acceptable prank it would keep the as – yet – to – be – named Marauders from using them as an excuse to bully people; namely Slytherins and Snape.

Hefting her bag onto her shoulder, she left to enjoy the rest of her class free afternoon. Whistling as she wondered what prank they would respond with.

Sitting down by the lake, she pulled out a roll of parchment and began outlining a list of pranks the 'Renegade' could use. Fortunately, a certain pair of red headed twins had given her several years' worth of ideas. She wrote, giggling madly at the thought of indirectly helping the twins with their lifelong goal of engaging the Marauders in a prank war.

Her list was a good four feet long and not even half done, by the time she skipped her way back up to the castle for supper.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

*** **Yule is kind of like Christmas, only it was celebrated long before Christmas even became a thing. Given how old fashioned the magical world seems, it felt it fit them better than Christmas.

**** **I've read a lot of stories where OCs and self-inserts get into a prank war with the Marauders and, while some are good, I always felt they got a bit out of hand. That, and Briar spent a lot of time with Snape in her last year and knows how the group went too far sometimes. This is her attempt to keep them from making the same mistakes, while also having fun with the people she loves.


	9. A Talk and an Ally

**A Talk and an Ally**

* * *

"I don't like this. I really don't like this. I really _really_ don't like this. I–"

'And yet here you are, so perhaps we could move past this and onto the reason you _are_ here.'

Briar scowled into the darkness and contemplated pulling the Sorting Hat off her head. It merely chuckled.

'Come now we had an agreement. It has been a month since school started, your time is up, and now it is time for you to honor it.'

Briar sighed. "Yes, which is why I'm here, but how did you get here?"

Here being the Room of Requirement, and now being nearly two in the morning.

'Magic.'

Briar snorted, "I kind of figured that much."

'I shall tell you after you talk. Now, tell me why I should not have you expelled for making a deal with Death, messing with time, and more importantly _disrupting my Sorting_!'

"You don't need to shout," Briar grumbled, rubbing her ears. "We both know you wouldn't have listened to my advice, or kept your silence, if you didn't think I had a good reason."

The Hat hurumphed. 'Well yes, but I still want to hear why _you_ thought doing something so _reckless_ was a good idea.'

Briar leaned back into the chair provided by the room. "Well I suggest you get comfortable, it's a long story." The Hat settled itself more firmly onto her head and Briar chuckled dryly. "Well I know you saw some of it, but. . .?"

'It was just enough to know you were telling the truth about wanting to make things better,' the Hat clarified.

"Right, well, back to the beginning then. For me, it all started on Halloween night of 1981. . ." Briar explained the attack and the reason behind it. She skimmed through the years at the Dursleys, ignoring the Hat's splutter of indignation and outrage at some of the memories, and began a detailed account of her years at Hogwarts. She focused mainly on the problems and trials her brother faced, but made sure to include as much information on the current Hogwarts goers as she could.

". . .things really started going downhill after that. Harry had nightmares almost every night after and his mood was absolutely foul! It only got worse when he saw what the Daily Prophet was writing about him. Then we finally get to Hogwarts to find that horrid woman from his trial, Umbrigde, was the new Defense teacher!"

The story continued.

"Seventh year was definitely the hardest and the worst, for many reasons. Worst for me, was not knowing where Harry was or if he was safe."

The tale went on, reaching its climax with Harry's death and Voldemort's defeat and ending with her in the Room of Requirement.

"I'd read about the ritual earlier that year when I was researching a paper for, what was Defense but was then just, Dark Arts. I knew the risks, and that my chances of completing it successfully were next to zero. . . But it _did_ work and Death came."

She told the Hat about the deal. She had, at most, ten years, now eight, until Lily would have originally have been pregnant with her and Harry; meaning she had until sometime between October and November of 1979. That she had until then to fulfill all of Death's requests: get rid of the Hallows, or at least make it so no one could ever be Master of Death again; destroy the Horcruxes; kill Voldemort and the Flammels; and deliver the required number of souls so the balance between life and death wouldn't tip.

She told him about the conditions: how she had to live without leaving any lasting impressions, virtually not existing at all.

She told him about the price. . .

". . .but I'd lost everything. My parents before I even had a chance to know them. My godfather, Sirius. The closest thing I had to a father, Remus, and his wife, Tonks. My friends and classmates. All four of my mentors: Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Madam Pomfrey. The people I considered my family: the Weasleys, Hagrid, my professors, most of the Order. Most importantly, I lost the two people I'd sworn to protect no matter what. . . my brother, Harry, an-and _him_.

"At that point I was willing, _am willing_, to do anything and everything I can to keep that from happening. No matter what the cost or the price, my family will be safe, and if that means damning myself then so be it!" Briar's voice rang through the room, the determination clear despite how her voice shook and cracked at the end.

'Ah child, you forget I can see what goes on in your mind and in your heart. I see plainly your fears and your pain. Do not hide them; it will only hurt you more.'

It broke. Under the weight of understanding words and a gentle tone, the dam holding back the tears broke and Briar cried. Cried all the tears she'd held back over the years. Cried out all the fear she felt at being here and what she was doing. Cried out all the pain of seeing old faces alive and full of life and not being allowed to talk and laugh with them. Cried out all of the frustration at having to do it all alone and still having to succeed.

It was a long time before the flow of tears slowed and she became aware of the gentle murmur of comforting words the Sorting Hat was whispering in her ears.

"Thank you. . .for listening, for putting Snape in Ravenclaw, for putting Pettegrew in Hufflepuff and keeping him out of Gryffindor, for keeping the rest of the Marauders together, for letting me stay with them, and," she swallowed, "for believing me."

'As if I could doubt such honesty. Now, what can I do to help?'

"Help?!" Briar screeched, pulling the Hat off her head. "Weren't you listening? No one's supposed to know and now you do! I've breached the contract and –!"

"Nonsense!" the Hat interrupted. "I saw the memory and Death said 'no one.' I am not a person, but a product of magic. As a product of magic I am and am not alive, and also, like magic, I do and do not exist. Therefore," the Hat finished smugly, "my knowing is in no way a breach of contract and neither is my help, as Death said nothing about not being allowed to accept help or advice."

Briar gaped at the Hat dangling from her hand. The brim was twisted in a way that reminded her of crossed arms and the tear that doubled for a mouth smiled sweetly at her.

She laughed, her whole body shaking with relief and happiness. Finally someone, er thing? she could talk to, share her burden with.

"Ok, you're in," she gasped, dropping the Hat back on her head, "but no backing out later, ok?" Her voice a tad nervous at the end.

'Of course not!' the Hat said indignantly. 'I have an obligation to protect students of Hogwarts, you being one of them if for a second time, in any way I can, and speaking of protecting students, a_ basilisk_?'

"Ah, yes, about that, I've got a plan, and since you've decided to help. . ." Briar outlined her plan to deal with the snake over Christmas when, hopefully, there would be fewer people around.

It was nearly noon when Briar bade the Hat good bye.

'Good luck being "unnoticeable,"' the hat said, as it disappeared back to the headmaster's office.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Lily asked as a girl with silver glasses and hair that came halfway between her shoulders and elbows sat down next to her.

"I wanted to explore the castle a little bit and got lost," was the soft reply.

"Oh, well, you're lucky we didn't have any classes this morning."

"What have we got this afternoon?" asked round faced Alice.

"Defense, History, and Herbology," answered Marlene, their last roommate.

"Yes, I love Herbology!"

* * *

No one noticed the slight smile on the bespectacled girls face as she listened to the chatter. No one heard her as she muttered, "Like mother, like son." No one noticed as she trailed after them. No one noticed when she disappeared.


	10. Back to Work

**Back to Work**

* * *

After the first month of lying low and setting up her persona, Briar got back to work. Every other night she'd wait until her roommates would fall asleep before transforming and flying around the castle to the seventh floor corridor and the Room of Requirement. During the week she worked on her various plans and projects. Over the weekends she would make her excuses, and leave to go reaping***** and gather information.

The Sorting Hat was a great help with the Guardians' letters. Helping her write in different styles and manipulating the wording to better sway the public while not offending the politicians.

It was after a particularly long letter about accepting magical creatures and the advantages of doing so that Briar asked the question that had been nagging at her.

"How do you know how to do this?"

'Years of watching headmasters and headmistresses deal with parents and board members. Surprisingly, it is the parents that have proven the more difficult of the two to deal with.'

The Hat was also a wealth of magical knowledge.

'You forget that I was made of magic supplied by the Founders themselves as well as having had centuries of watching students and staff practice and experiment with spells and the like,' he explained as he talked her through the process of laying down runes that, combined with the magic of the Room of Requirement, would make it so that two minutes in the room would only equal one outside.

After finishing with her work she would practice spell work. First with each wand separately and then dueling practice with both together. Once done, she would banish her projects back to her bed and take off for the forest to gather any loose strands of spiders' silk and unicorn hair she could find. Occasionally, a thestral hair if she could it. Flying back to her dorm, she would carefully tuck everything away before collapsing into sleep, Seraph watching over her. The pattern continued and the month of October flew by until it was Halloween.

It was a hard day and Briar struggled through her classes. Around noon she heard the shouts indicating a prank had been pulled. Her lips twitched as she slipped away to set up a reply from Renegade before escaping to the seventh floor.

'You should be down enjoying the feast.'

"You know I'm not in the mood, Teagan." It had been halfway through their third meeting that Briar had told the Hat that calling him 'Hat' was weird and he needed a name. The next night he'd decided on Teagan, which according to him was a Gaelic name meaning poet. "You saw what happened on past Halloweens, is it really surprising I don't like it?"

Teagan sighed, 'I really wanted to see the prank.'

"Ask Dumbledore to show you then."

'It's not the same,' pouted Teagan.

"Look, if you're not going to help, _please_, at least be quiet." They lapsed into silence. Briar stared at the rolls of parchment in front of her while absently stroking Seraph.

After nearly ten minutes of silence, Teagan spoke again, 'Are you going to visit him next week?'

"Yes."

'Madam Pomfrey spoke to Dumbledore after your last visit. She wants to know who has been leaving the tea for young Mr. Lupin. She worries that whoever it is knows about his condition.'

"Well, she's right. I do know about his 'condition,' and if the tea helps, which it does, I will continue to leave it."

'As for the letters?'

"They. . .help." Briar bit her lip, "I hope they do, anyway. Remus said that until James and Sirius confronted him, he always felt afraid and alone. Even after he told them the truth, he said it wasn't until after they spent their first moon with him as animagi and still wanted to be friends that he stopped being afraid they would abandon him," she explained.

"I'm hoping that by leaving the letters it will make it easier for him to believe that there are people out there that don't care about his lycanthropy."

'Did I tell you he was quite insistent on knowing who you were? We argued about it during his sorting.'

"I suppose it isn't nice to tease him then?"

'Nonsense! You are quite right to try and build his confidence, he has so little, and nothing builds character like having something search for. Now, since you are not getting anything done, you should rest. Especially since you plan to – what do you call it? Ah yes – go reaping tonight.'

Briar sighed, but pushed the scrolls away and stretched out on the now expanded sofa. "Wake me when it's time?"

'Of course,' Teagan replied, before the room whisked him back into Dumbledore's office.

* * *

Briar flew over head, looking for a safe place to transform and dove for a small alley. Once in human form, she released the small pouch she had held in her beak, now mouth. She pulled out a small vial and dropped in a couple hairs. As soon as the liquid turned a sickly pink, she downed the polyjuice potion, quickly changing her clothes once her body had stopped changing. She slipped on the two rings that would hopefully be the only weapons she would need, and disapparated. Time to make the demons of All Hallows Eve****** come alive.

* * *

Donavan Baldacci was celebrating. Both he and his two friends had recently joined the rising dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, or the Dark Lord as they had been told to call him. All three had joined together soon after graduating from Hogwarts and had gone on several mudblood huntings. They had just received word that they would be joining the attack on Raven's Post village, their first official attack and were currently celebrating by getting drunk at their favorite pub.

It was a good night.

"Loo – hic! – look at tha – hic! – tha,'" his friend slurred, pointing. Donavan looked over to where a beautiful, blonde witch was entering the pub. Donavan whistled and the woman looked over at them and smiled. "Merlin, but she mus' be part vela!"

Donavan nodded and watched as the woman made her way over to them.

It was a good night.

"You three look like you know your way around a pub. Care to recommend something?"

They blinked at her, alcohol muddled brains processing the words.

"Oh,uh, yeah, yeah! Of course." Donavan was the first to recover. "Me, Donavan, I like beer, but mah mates, Jerry and Cole, like whiskey and mead." He gestured to each in turn and the woman's smile widened.

"Something different for each of you? Excellent. Would you let me try some of yours? I'm not sure what I like and –" They were already shoving their drinks at her and she cut off with a laugh. She sipped each one and passed it back, her hand covering the rim each time. "Well, the whiskey's a little strong and the mead a little heavy, so I guess I'll go with the beer."

Grinning triumphantly, Donavan ordered her one and was rewarded with another glowing smile.

It was a good night.

"So what are you three men in here celebrating?" Donavan's friends who had been drowning their disappointment suddenly brightened at being called 'men.'

"Well, we jus' got assigned to a very import'nt team in charge of a dangerous task."

The woman gasped, "Oh my, you must be very brave."

All three soon found themselves tripping over each other in their haste to tell her exactly what the mission entailed: the where and the when and who all they thought would be going with them. Once they'd exhausted that topic, they told her about their other exploits, never noticing how her eyes narrowed or that no matter how much she 'drank,' her glass stayed full.

"How would you three like to show me some of those moves, hmm?"

They leapt up, Jerry taking her hand to pull her to her feet. At the door she stumbled, grabbing Coles' arm to keep herself upright. Outside she took Donavan's hand and he felt something sting him, but quickly forgot about it as she pulled him down the street saying, "I know the _perfect_ place."

It was a good night.

* * *

Briar breathed a sigh of relief when the last of the three baby Death Eaters sagged to the ground. She had almost run out of time, feeling the potion wearing off as she left the pub, but fortunately it seemed they were all too far gone to notice.

Quickly stuffing the rings, one containing a compulsion potion and the other a fast acting poison, into the bag she disapparated, reappearing several blocks away before transforming, as an added precaution, and flying back to Hogwarts. She had not expected three lowly Death Eaters to know anything important, but it appeared she had a town to visit.

Landing on her bed, she quickly scribbled out a plan before snuggling under the covers, thinking about next week and the full moon.

* * *

Briar woke from where she'd been dozing outside the infirmary and fluttered over to an open window.

Remus lay on a bed as Madam Pomfrey fussed over him, healing what she could and tipping potion after potion down his throat. Once satisfied she'd done all she could she closed the curtain. Briar watched as she set up the wards and alarms that would alert her to any changes or visitors before heading back to her office/living space.

Briar transformed and sat down on the sill. After years of helping and watching the mediwitch (courtesy of her brother and his friends) she knew exactly what spells the matron used, how they worked, and more importantly, how to get around them.

She first sent a small compulsion at the woman's door that would remind her of some paperwork that urgently needed doing if she tried to leave. Next she tweaked the wards into ignoring her presence using the method the mediwitch had taught her, in her first life, to keep her from triggering the wards unnecessarily while checking on patients. Last she cast a one – way silencing spell around the curtains so she could hear out but no one could hear in, and a spell that would alert her to anyone coming within thirty feet of Remus' bed.

Rigging everything to disappear when she left and tacking up a rune that would erase her magical signature, she slipped through the curtains around his bed. She knew from her time with older Remus that he wouldn't wake until at least noon.

Briar opened her bag and quietly set a teapot, charmed to keep the tea warm, a cup, and a letter on his bedside table, before sitting down and turning her attention to the boy.

She smiled as she ran a hand through his hair. James may look like Harry, but Remus was the one that acted the most like him. She couldn't help but think of all three of them as younger brothers. It was probably for this reason she found herself singing the same made – up lullaby she used to sing to Harry.

* * *

Remus Lupin floated, mostly still asleep, but awake enough to begin to feel the aches and pains of his body. Something brushed through his hair and he became aware of a noise.

'A song? Someone was singing to him? Madam Pomfrey?' Remus listened. 'No, it wasn't Madam Pomfrey, the voice was too. . .soft? Light? Young? Yes, that was it! The voice was too young. But then who. . .?'

A familiar scent tickled his nose; trees and wild roses and something bird-like. He tried to remember where he had smelled that before, it felt important, but the hand running through his hair and the soft singing lulled him deeper into sleep.

Remus jerked awake, looking around as quickly as his aching body would allow. He remembered. He remembered where he had first caught the scent of trees and wild roses and something bird-like. It was the girl! The girl he'd met in the robe shop. The girl who had given him the confidence to try and make friends. The girl who told him to find her. The girl he'd been looking for. That girl had been here, he was certain of it as her scent still hung in the air, and he was sure she had. . .

Remus frowned. A memory of. . .something floated just beyond his reach, refusing to let him remember. He sighed and his eyes landed on his bedside table. A teapot sat beside a cup and roll of parchment. His heart skipped a beat. It was the same set up that he'd seen the last two times after his transformations. Hesitantly he grabbed the parchment and unrolled the letter.

_Well it's about time you woke up, sleepy head! You had me worried , good thing I know you're tough! I also know it was you that helped James and Sirius set up that prank outside the library. Great job! I was laughing for hours, though I was laughing harder when I saw what Renegade did to them in retaliation._

_No, I'm not going to tell you, since I doubt James and Sirius will let you go two minutes without hearing about it once you get out. __Anyway, be a good a boy ant let Madam P. fix you up and get plenty of rest. Oh and drink the tea, it'll help. Promise!_

_Can't wait to see you up and about again,_

_Your friend that knows and **DOESN'T **care_

_P.S. have you figured out who I am yet?_

Remus grinned as he read the beginning and laughed at the thought of James and Sirius getting pranked. He frowned though, as he read the part about her knowing and, apparently, not caring. It was the same sign off as the last two letters and still caused fear to pound through him at the idea of someone knowing his secret.

Uncertainly, he looked at the tea. It had helped the last few times. He poured himself a cup and downed it. Smiling as he felt the pain ebb a little and poured himself another cup, letting the warm liquid wake him up and further ease his pain.*******

He looked at the letter again and decided. While still unhappy and unsure about someone knowing his biggest secret, he might, just possibly, be willing to believe that _maybe, _just possibly, there was a tiny little part of him that was willing to hope, not believe! no, not believe. . yet. . .but hope that _maybe_ this person might, maybe, just possibly, not care enough to still _maybe_, possibly, want to be friends with him.

Content with his decision, Remus looked at the post script and then cautiously sniffed the letter. A trace of trees and wild roses with a very faint something bird-like.

"You're the girl from the robe shop," Remus grinned.

* * *

It was supper time in the Great Hall and no one noticed as a pair of eyes watched James and Sirius greet their friend and regale him with stories of all he'd missed. No one noticed a smile break out underneath those eyes as they watched him smile and laugh, looking much happier than the days leading up to the full moon. No one noticed as the eyes glanced at the head table where the headmaster and his deputy had their heads together, whispering. No one noticed as they returned to the book in front of them, and later, no one noticed as the girl they belonged to disappeared.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

*** **I'm not sure if I explained this properly in an earlier chapter, but 'reaping' is the term Briar is using to mean that (basically) she's going to go kill someone to fulfill her quota for Death. My way of think is that she's sort of Death's minion right now, and Grim Reaper, reaping, it just made sense to me.

**** "**All Hallows' Eve" is really just an old fashioned way of saying "Halloween." I used it because, honestly, "Halloween" just doesn't seem scary enough for me. It sounds, well, _silly _and just didn't fit the atmosphere I was trying to write.

***** **There are herbal remedies out there that can help with the symptoms Remus is experiencing. I'm not going to list them all here as I've carried on long enough, but if you're curious look 'em up or message me and I can give you the ones I know of.


	11. Secret Santas Fight Snakes

**Secret Santas Fight Snakes**

* * *

A loud groan drifted through the Common Room where the Gryffindor first years were clustered around tables piled with books and rolls of parchment. There was an answering groan followed by two loud thumps. With a sigh Briar looked over at the source of noise.

James, Sirius and Remus sat around a table pouring over books. Well, Remus was, James and Sirius had their heads on the table moaning.

"Will you two be quiet?" asked an exasperated Lily. "Honestly, if someone heard you they'd think you were dying instead of just studying!"

"'Just studying,'" repeated Sirius, turning his head to stare incredulously at where the girls sat together around another table. "We are fighting a battle here! A battle against the worst possible thing anyone has ever thought to inflict upon our poor selves."

"A battle," continued James, "against the most horrendous monstrosity to ever be suffered by a student."

"We're studying for our History of Magic exam," Remus explained blandly, not even looking up from his notes.

"So are we, but you don't hear us complaining about it," Marlene shot back.

"We actually find it quite enjoyable," Alice chimed in.

At that even Remus looked up to stare at them incredulously.

"You _enjoy_ it," Sirius gasped, recoiling in horror.

"Nooo! Evans, how could you do this to me?" James wailed.

"Shut it, Potter! Unlike _you_ some people know how to make even the most. ."

"Boring," Supplied Marlene.

"Horrifyingly depressing?" Sirius suggested.

"Gut wrenchingly awful?" James added.

"Coma inducing?" Sirius shot back.

"Soul crushing?" James returned, eyeing Sirius challengingly.

"Lifeless?" Came the answer to the unspoken challenge.

"Horrifically depressing?"

"Appallingly dull?"

"Cruelly uninteresting?"

"Disgustingly dry?"

"Mind numbing?" Remus muttered into the silence as James struggled to think of another adjective.

"Tedious?" Alice offered.

"Tedious, yes. Thank you Alice." Lily said, ignoring the boys pouting about having their think – of – another – adjective game cut off. "Some people know how to make even the most tedious of subjects interesting, and even fun."

She was met with blank stares.

"'Interesting'?" James turned to Sirius.

"'Fun'?" Sirius looked at James. "Can those words and that subject be used in same sentence?"

As one they turned to Remus, who shrugged.

"'Interesting?' _maybe_," Remus said contemplatively.

"If _anyone_," James interrupted, "other than _Binns_ taught it, but –"

"But _nothing_ can make History of Magic _fun_," finished Sirius as all three turned to look at the girls. The girls smirked at each other.

"Not even pictures?" Lily asked, dangling a roll of notes in front of them.

Sirius snatched it and laid it on the table. The roll of parchment looked like a long muggle comic strip, but involving goblins and wizards with little notes explaining dialogue and dates next to each picture.

"Wow," he breathed.

"Woah," James gapsed, "this is –"

"Amazing," Remus finished.

"Too bad that _nothing_ can help make history interesting." The cartoon riddled notes were snatched off the table.

"Wha – No! Evans! Kind, sweet, beautiful, _generous_ Evans –"

"Sorry, Potter," Marlene cut in as a blushing Lily hid behind a book. "She's not the one you need to beg. She is."

Marlene pointed to the end of the table and the boys blinked at the, until then, unnoticed girl.

She looked up at them and Remus was hit with a feeling of déjà vu. With a sigh she turned to her table mates. "Thanks guys, now I'm never going to have a moment of peace again."

"Sorry," they mumbled.

She turned back to the boys, raising a hand when James and Sirius opened their mouths. "Save it. As much as I'd enjoy watching you grovel, I value my sanity more."

They pouted as the girls giggled.

"May I?" Alice handed her the scroll. She tapped her wand against it and a second scroll appeared. She handed one back to Alice and the other she tossed to Remus. "Now each table has one."

"How did you do that," asked a stunned Sirius, and Briar cursed mentally at her carelessness. Duplication spells weren't taught until forth year.

"I'll tell you after our last exam, which happens to be tomorrow so you may want to study."

Blushing they did, but not before Lily demanded, "You will tell us, right?"

"Yup, right after the exam." 'If you remind me,' Briar added silently.

"Ya know," James muttered after several minutes of quiet studying. "This is our last exam before we leave for the holidays."

Sirius looked up. "You thinking we should leave them something to remember us?"

"Teachers deserve presents too." They grinned at each other while Remus groaned.

Over at the girls' table Briar smiled.

* * *

Within an hour of the last exam letting out people began turning striped, polka –dotted, checkered, or solid red and green. The next morning Renegade retaliated.

Four snow people dressed in robes from each of the four houses burst into the Great Hall during breakfast, engaged in a furious snowball fight. They chased each other around the hall until one of them was hit with a spell from an irritated teacher at which time they seemed to realize they were in a room with hundreds of other potential targets. They began pelting the students and teachers.

For the remainder of the week they roamed the castle, throwing snowballs at and shoving handfuls of snow down the shirts of anyone they came across. When Dumbledore showed up at one meal covered in snow from his head to his toes, rumors flew about how all four had attacked him, using a method called a 'dog pile' to completely cover him in snow.

It was the night before most of the students would be leaving that they once again appeared together in the Great Hall. They walked up to the teacher's table where they bowed, first to the staff, and then to the students. After which they dissolved into a flurry of snow that formed itself into familiar purple words:

**Happy Christmas,**

**_Renegade_!**

The words exploded in a shower of snow that covered everyone in the Great Hall with a gentle dusting of white powder.

"Looks like you were bested again," Remus told his friends. Both of which replied by trying, and failing, to replace smiles with pouts.

* * *

"Are you ready?"

'I do not suppose you will reconsider asking someone for help?'

"You are my help."

'Very well,' sighed Teagan.

Briar grinned as she stepped out of a stall and into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The Hogwarts Express had just left the station, but Briar didn't want to wait. As far as she was concerned waiting three and half months was long enough.

A quick glance showed the room was empty of both people and ghosts. She shifted, grabbing the hat in her beak, and flew over to the sinks. She watched as the sinks slid open and then closed behind her at a second hiss from Teagan, still surprised he could speak parstletongue. Then again he was made from knowledge of the four founders, as he was _constantly_ telling her.

She flew through the tunnels and after several wrong turns spotted the door her brother had told her about. She landed, shifting back into her human form.

'Ready?'

"Hold on, let me find. . ." she rummaged in her pockets and pulled out the sound ball. "OK, ready."

'Are you certain it will work?'

"It's the pitch and frequency of a rooster's crow that's fatal, not the actual crow from a rooster*****."

'You did not answer my question.'

"Teagan, I'm facing a giant basilisk with nothing but a ball of sound and a hat, no offense. _Do you really think I feel prepared_?"

'None taken and very well.'

He hissed and she watched the door slide open. She stepped into the chamber.

"Remember, talk to it. If it seems sane and can be reasoned with, convince it to help me. If it's insane, which given that it's been isolated for centuries with the exception of Riddle, I suspect it might be, let me know."

'Understood.' Teagan wriggled lower, making sure Briar's eyes were covered before letting out a long string of hisses.

Briar tensed as she heard stone shift, gripping the glass ball and her wand tightly. After several minutes of listening to the sound of something sliding against stone get louder and louder, Teagan started hissing. The replying hisses were terrifying.

'Now!'

Briar dropped the ball and a long, loud crow filled the cavern, soon followed by a stomach turning, hissing scream. She stood frozen, the sounds of thrashing much too close for her liking, but she didn't want to draw the snake's attention while it could still kill her and Teagan hadn't told her to move. Eventually the thrashing stopped.

'It is over.' The death grip the brim of the Hat had had on her head relaxed and she pushed Teagan back far enough to see.

"Sweet Circe," she breathed and took a shaky step forward, lowering the volume of the crow but keeping it going, just in case.

The snake was huge, much bigger and deadlier than she had imagined. Her stomach churned at the thought of her twelve year old brother fighting the monster. Her Harry being bitten; those teeth cutting into him. Harry's body disappearing inside that large mouth. . .

Something hard landed on her head.

"OW!" Yanking off the hat she rubbed her head. "Holy mother of Merlin's whore, that _hurt_!"

"Language!" Teagan scolded.

Grumbling she removed the ruby encrusted sword and jammed the Hat back onto her head. "You couldn't have warned me?"

'You were drowning yourself in imagined horrors and nearly made yourself sick.'

"And banging me on the head with a sword was your idea of fixing that?" She asked scathingly.

'It worked,' was the unrepentant reply.

"It really hurt!" she sniffed, making her way over to the head.

'Remember don't look at the eyes, they can still kill you.'

Briar removed her cloak and draped it over the head. "Are the eyes covered?"

'Yes. Now get out your vials and funnel. And be careful!'

Teagan talked her through the process of milking the dead snake and then onto skinning and harvesting what would be useful or sellable. When asked, he claimed that several headmasters and headmistresses had been avid hunters, and brought their catches back to skin and dress.

'Of course, none of them can boast of basilisk.'

"Yeah, well I bet none of them had to skin their catches with a sword either," she grunted.

'True. Now focus, this part is tricky.'

"And I wanted to be done with this by Christmas," Briar groaned.

'Not likely, deary,' Teagan said, _far_ too cheerfully. 'It will take at _least_ two weeks to harvest.'

* * *

It was dark and cold. Down stairs he could hear the sounds of shouting and the bangs of over turned furniture.

Severus Snape shivered and wrapped a thin blanket more closely around himself as he stared out the window wondering why he had allowed his mother to convince him to come home for the holidays. It was Christmas Eve, a time of hope and happiness. For everyone but him. He sighed and watched a star shoot across the sky.

_"__A shooting star __is a falling wish."_ His mother had once told him._ "All you have to do is catch it."_

He'd long ago given up wishing, but a small part of him still hoped. So Severus closed his eyes and hoped with all his might, for a Christmas miracle.

* * *

Remus Lupin ran into his parents' room, childish eagerness for presents not dampened in the slightest by the full moon two nights earlier.

"Happy Christmas!" he shouted, jumping on the bed.

His parents groaned, but sat up.

"Wha' time's it?" his father managed around a yawn.

"Six!" Remus answered happily, bouncing up and down, "time for presents!" He hopped off the bed and ran back out of the room.

"Six?" Mr. Lupin repeated weakly.

"A whole thirty minutes later than last year," Mrs. Lupin commented dryly as she pushed the covers back. "Come on; let's head down before he decides to drag us out of bed." Neither was willing to ruin the one time of the year their son didn't let his lycanthropy stop him from acting like a normal, happy child.

They reached the sitting room to find him bouncing up and down next to a pile of presents.

"All right son, go ahead." Remus beamed at them before diving on the pile.

Oh how he loved Christmas! The music, the lights, the excuse to drink hot chocolate whenever he wanted, and the constant happy atmosphere.

His parents watched with matching smiles as he tore through the paper, exclaiming happily at each surprise. His mother brushed away tears of happiness as he open two badly wrapped present from his roommates and explained the ludicrous gifts his _friends_ (he had friends!) had given him. His father swallowed a lump in his throat as he listened to his son laughing as he told them about all the crazy adventures his _friends_ (more than one!) had dragged him into. Looking at each other, his parents shared a silent moment of thanks at their son's happiness, something that had been far too rare in the past few years.

"No way."

They looked up at the sudden change in tone to see Remus staring at a sparkly purple present with a strange expression on his face.

Remus bit his lip. He knew that handwriting; he saw it every time he woke up in the hospital wing after a transformation.

_To: Remus_

_From: Guess who!_

Carefully, and much slower than with the other presents, he unwrapped the glittering, purple paper. Inside was a small bag with a note attached sitting on top of a box. With trembling hands he removed the small scroll and unrolled it.

_Happy Christmas, Remus!_

_I hope it's a good one. Sorry I couldn't send my usual care package, but I wasn't sure where you'd be and I didn't want anyone getting spooked by a teapot. And yes, it's happened before; long story and not pleasant!_

_I hope you're getting this on Christmas and not back at Hogwarts. Guess I'll have to trust Seraph will find you, hu?_

_Anyway, I'm going to explain your presents, well, one the other one doesn't really need explaining._

_The pouch! Now don't freak out when you open it, it's made of unicorn hair **not** silver, I swear! Go ahead and get it out, it'll make it easier to understand the explanation it you can see it._

Curious, and more than a little wary, Remus picked up the bag and tipped it upside down. Something long and silver looking fell into his hand.

"It doesn't hurt," he said quickly hearing his parents' gasp of horror.

"What is it?" his mother asked shakily. He held it up so they could see it.

"A . . .necklace?" his father said uncertainly.

"Yeah," Remus muttered, running his hands over the red and black stones woven into the silvery strands. He picked up the letter.

_Have you got it? I'm going to assume you do._

_Ok, I know it's a necklace but I made it as 'manly' as possible and it's a very special necklace a friend of mine made for me. . .for you._

_It's made of unicorn hair, as I wrote above, and the stones, those are onyx and carnelian, with runes carved into them. Everything this necklace is made out of is meant to promote healing, protection, and wellness._

_The stones will help protect you from disease and injury and will help you recover faster from those you do get. The runes amplify the power. Since it's made with unicorn hair, unicorns being pure creatures, the hair'll help the stones and runes against injuries you receive as a result of your, ah, problem._

_The stones get their power from the sun and moon, so once a month they will need to soak for 24 hours in both sunlight and moonlight. Suggestion, take it off the morning of the full moon and place it somewhere that the sun and moon light can hit it, that way it'll be ready to go when you get let out of the infirmary the next day._

_The runes get their power by absorbing your excess magic, so as long as you wear it they'll continue to cycle magic out of and back into you._

_I've already had it soaking up moon light and sunlight for a full two months now and gave it a shot of my own magic so it's ready to be worn and used right now._

_Well, that was kind of heavy for a Christmas present, wasn't it? Lucky for you the other thing is much easier to take!_

_Hope you wear it. Hope it helps. Hope you enjoy your holiday._

_I'll see you again at Hogwarts,_

_Your friend that knows and **DOESN'T** care_

_(and currently, your secret santa!)******_

Next to the signature was a picture of St. Nick wearing a bandit's mask and sneaking around.

He put on the necklace and immediately felt the aches fade.

"Remus?" He looked up. His parents' eyes were filled with worry after watching the flow of different emotion cross their son's face. "Is everything ok?"

He glanced back at the present and saw a box of chocolate with a note reading, I noticed you liked it, stuck on top. He smiled and made up his mind.

"Mum, do you remember me telling you about the girl I met when we were shopping for school robes?"

His parents looked at each other. That had not been what they were expecting.

"Yes." How could she forget? In her mind that day was the catalyst of all the good things that had happened in the past few months. Remus had talked of little else but her and Hogwarts during those last few weeks, and his letters always made some reference to her.

"I take it you've figured out who she is?" Oh, how she hoped so. She desperately wanted to thank the young girl who had given her broken little boy some of his confidence back.

Remus shook his head and laughed.

"No, but she's not had trouble finding me! In fact, well, here. Read this and I'll try and explain."

* * *

Sirius Black grinned down at a sleeping James Potter, so innocent, so helpless, so defenseless. He really should let him sleep; let him wake up on his own. After all, it was thanks to James that Sirius was here at Potter Manor instead of being left, unwanted, at Hogwarts like his parents intended.

Yes, Sirius owed James, more than he would ever admit, but it _was_ Christmas. And Christmas meant presents. And Sirius _had_ already waited two whole days. Sirius' grin widened. Yes, he'd waited long enough. Besides James would thank him later anyway. He pounced.

"AHHH!" James shrieked, struggling against the impossibly heavy weight on top of him.

"Wakey, wakey, Jamsie," sang Sirius.

"Ge' off!" James bellowed, pushing the annoying lump away.

"Aw, come on, Jamsie," Sirius pouted as James buried his head under his pillow. "Don't tell me you forgot what day it is?"

James poked his head back out. "Wha' day'z it?"

"It's Christmas, Jamsie," Sirius said slowly.

"Christmas?"

"Yes, Christmas, and Christmas means. . .?"

James blinked blankly back at him and Sirius sighed.

"It means," he said leaning closer. "PRESENTS!"

James yelled and threw himself backwards as Sirius bellowed in his ear, landing in a tangled heap. He surfaced, red faced, to find Sirius doubled over with laughter.

"Why you!" James tackled him, beating him with his pillow. "I don't care what day it is, Sirius Black, if you ever–! Wait, did you say presents?" he paused, pillow raised threateningly above Sirius who nodded, a wide grin on his face. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go get my parents!"

Laughing, Sirius let James pull him to his feet and they raced to the master bedroom. Getting an idea halfway and dashing back to James' room. They'd almost reached the master Potter's room a second time when the door opened and a bleary eyed Mr. and Mrs. Potter stared down at them.

"Surely you wouldn't be planning on pulling something this early in the morning on Christmas?" Mr. Potter asked, eyebrow raised.

"Especially when you haven't even opened your presents yet?" Mrs. Potter eyed them, the threat clear in her tone and crossed arms.

The two boys looked at each other, wide – eyed.

"Nope!"

"Wouldn't dream of it!"

Lips twitched as the adults stared at the far too innocent looks. "Well, in that case why don't we head down stairs?"

"Presents!" the boys screamed as they raced ahead, followed more sedately by their elders.

The next hour saw a storm of wrapping, ribbons, and bows, and a constant stream of "check this out!" and "wow, no way!"

Smiling and dodging random missiles, the older Potters watched the chaos, occasionally unwrapping one of their own presents and laughing when one of the boys came up for air with pieces of paper or bows stuck in their hair.

At long last the storm seemed to pass.

"What a great haul," Sirius sighed contently, falling back onto a pile of wrapping.

"Wait, we missed some."

Sirius shot back up, "really?"

"Yeah, look." James pulled out two packages wrapped in sparkly purple paper. Behind them Mr. and Mrs. Potter exchanged questioning looks.

"Who are they from boys?"

"Dunno," James replied. "Mine only says '_to: James, from: your secret Santa_."

"Same." said Sirius.

Receiving a nod from his wife, Mr. Potter pulled out his wand and waved it discreetly at the two presents. After receiving an answering nod, Mrs. Potter turned back to the two youngsters on the floor*******. "Well, go ahead and open them and maybe that will solve the mystery."

Needing no further encouragement, they ripped off the paper.

"A book?" James stared at the book in his lap. Everything you Need to Know About Animagus: the How, the Why, the What. He opened it, scrawled inside cover was a simple message.

_In case you should have any furry problems._

Confused, but curious, he turned the page. Several chapters in the table of contents had stars next to them. Flicking through the book he saw numerous notes scribbled into the margins as well as many highlighted passages and little diagrams.

"Wicked." A quick glance and he already knew the book would be useful.

"Sirius? Honey are you alright?"

James looked up, startled at his mother's worried tone to find Sirius looking close to tears as he stared at a letter.

"Wha – Oh yeah," he blinked and stuffed the letter out of sight. "I'm fine Mrs. P. Hey James, check this out." Hanging off a thick leather band and made entirely of obsidian, except for the eyes which were small sapphires, was a bear –like dog, muzzle twisted in a mischievous looking smile.

"Woah!"

"I know, wicked looking ain't it?"

Above the two boys, the adult Potters exchanged significant looks. It was hours later before James got a chance to ask Sirius about the letter.

"All right Sirius, what's the deal with the letter?"

There was a long, tense silence as Sirius looked anywhere but at James. He watched as Sirius looked down, frowning and fingering the necklace. James eyes narrowed.

Finally he looked up at James and nodded. "All right, I'll show you."

James felt a bit thrown by the lack of fight as Sirius pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to him. Feeling much more nervous at the look on Sirius' face he read the letter.

_Dear Sirius Black,_

_A little bird told me about the . . .letter your mother sent you, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to do something about it. I was short on time and supplies, not that that is an excuse._

_I won't pretend to know what goes on in your parents' heads, but please believe me when I say the only disgrace to the Black family I am aware of is their treatment of you. _

_Now while I don't know what your home life is like, the letter I heard about has given me some idea. As I'm not one to take chances, in the pouch you will find a pedant upon which I have placed many types of protection spells. As long as you wear it you will be safe from all minor, and several major, curses and hexes. Should you ever find yourself in a truly dangerous situation the pendant will let me know and I will personally ensure you are rescued._

_That said, don't hide from the people that truly care about you, believe in your friends._

May you find shade in the light and a candle in the dark,

_Guardian_

_P.S. I've taken the liberty of including one for your brother, please see that he gets it along with an explanation. The dog is yours. ********_

James stared at the signature.

"You," James swallowed, "you got a letter from the Guardian?_ The Guardian_?"

"Pretty wicked, right?"

James nodded, and looked at the letter again. "Hey Sirius, why does the Guardian think you need protection?"

Sirius stiffened.

"You don't need to tell but –"

Sirius shook his head. "You're my best mate and you've been straight with me so," Sirius swallowed thickly. He couldn't remember a time he'd been this nervous. "So I'll be straight with you. Straight as I can, anyway."

He looked at James, who nodded, accepting that Sirius would only say so much.

"My folks are pretty set in their way and they don't like that I don't agree with them; that is, that I don't want to be _like_ them. We argue about it all the time and _sometimes_ it can get a little. . .ugly" Sirius lapsed into silence, then, "Reg, Regulus my brother, he doesn't have it so bad. Nah, he's the 'good boy,' does all the 'right things.' Still. . ."

"You worry about him."

". . .yeah."

"And now you have a way to protect him."

Sirius looked up.

"Yeah, yeah! I do." He smiled a little. "You won't, ya know, _tell_ anyone, will you?"

James looked at him lips pursed.

"It's just they _are_ my parents, even if. . ."

James sighed and shook his head. "I won't tell unless you want me to or the Guardian has to rescue you."

Sirius tackled him, squeezing James in hug so hard he wheezed.

"But!" James gasped as soon as he got his breath back and pointing at the dog pendant, "you are _never_ taking that off!"

"Deal!" Sirius laughed, scrubbing his eyes free of tears and rolling off James' bed and into his own. He smiled as burrowed deeper under the covers. For the first time in a long time he felt protected, safe, and . . loved.

"You better send the other one to your brother."

"First thing in the morning," Sirius agreed with a yawn. "Hey James?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to tell Remus?"

"Well, you told me the truth."

"So, the truth, then?"

"It's up to you mate."

Silence.

"The truth. You think he'll tell us what's up with him?"

"Dunno, maybe."

* * *

Severus Snape stared at the sparkly purple box.

It sat unmoving at the foot of his bed, just as it had the past ten minutes he'd been staring at it. A bird sounded outside his window and he jumped. He looked at the. . .present and decided it was real.

With trembling hands, Severus picked it up and, like every other child, ripped off the paper. Inside was a large box with a letter on top. Curiosity growing, he unfolded the letter.

_Dear Severus Snape,_

_It has come to my attention that your home life is. . .less than ideal. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to do something about it. I was short on time and supplies, not that that is an excuse._

_Please believe when I say I know from personal experience what it is like to grow up in an unpleasant atmosphere, and wishing that somehow someone could help, even a little. I am now in a position to help those like myself in a way I had always dreamed someone would help me. I don't pretend to be able to help everyone, but those I can I fully intend to, you being one of them._

_My method is rather simple; in the pouch you will find a pedant upon which I have placed many types of protection spells. As long as you wear it you will be safe from all minor, and several major, curses and hexes. In addition, there is a compulsion placed upon it that will deter those wishing you harm. Unfortunately those truly determined will not be affect, or not for long; my apologies. Should you ever find yourself in a truly dangerous situation the pendant will let me know and I will personally ensure you are rescued. I wish I could do more, as it is this is all I can give you right now, along with some advice:_

_Don't hide from the people that truly care about you, believe in your friends and that goodness __**does**__ exist in the world._

May you find shade in the light and a candle in the dark,

_Guardian_

_P.S. I hope you enjoy the other gifts. I went a little overboard. Happy Christmas!_

In a daze, Severus set down the letter and opened the box. Right on top was a small pouch, opening it his breath caught. Inside was a raven, made a beautiful red stone that looked like fire, its eyes an obsidian black like his own, and hanging on a woven band of what felt like silk. Head spinning, he set it aside and picked up the next thing in the box.

It was a robe, a new robe, that looked to be his a_ctual _size. Next, were a standard set of muggle cloths, all new and well made, enough to last three days without washing. Next came a pair of equally new and well made shoes. He reached in again.

It was small box and inside were potions. He picked one up and read the label, _Nutritional Potion__._ Tied around the neck of the bottle was a note and a set of instruction for how to make it. He checked the other vials, a healing potion and a pepper –up potion, each with their own writings. Eyes burning, he pulled out the next item. Another box, this one containing the ingredients he would need to make the potions in the last box, and enough of them to last quite a while. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he pulled out the last two items.

A book, Everything you Need to Know to Become a Potions Master, with its own potions journal, and a bag a muggle and magical candy, because apparently, _Every child deserves something sweet__._

In a daze he picked up the necklace and slipped it on. The weight of the pendant against his chest was strangely comforting. He stood up and looked at his reflection in the window. The bright, red bird stared back at him with eyes that seemed to know and understand.

"It's real," he muttered. Severus stumbled back to his bed and ran his hands over the other gifts.

"Real, real, real, it's all real!" he cried and hugged them to him.

It didn't matter if the magic of the pendant didn't work. The rest was real and that was more than Severus had ever gotten; more than he had ever dreamed of getting. To expect to be protected on top of that would be utterly selfish of him. For now he was happy, because he, Severus Snape, had a real Christmas miracle.*********

* * *

Those few students and staff spending the holiday at Hogwarts chattered happily over the Christmas feast. No one noticed a young girl with glasses sitting at the far end of the table, watching and listening. No one noticed the happy smile that played across her face when she saw the staff showing their surprise gifts to each other. No one noticed how her smile slipped a little as she watched them exchange presents. No one noticed how she didn't receive any, not from friends or family or even a fellow student. No one noticed the shadows under her eyes or the dried blood under her nails. No one noticed when, with an owl shaped shadow trailing after her, she disappeared.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

*** **I'm sorry my inner nerd exploded when it heard that a rooster's crow could kill a giant, magical snake. Sorry, not buying it! And it (my inner nerd) demanded an explanation, so this was the only one I could think of that would fit the mythology and made a least a little sense. The logic (if you can call it that) behind the thinking: the pitch and frequency each species can hear at is different, for example people can't hear dog whistles but dogs obviously can. Going with the dog whistle, dogs always seem to be annoyed/pained by the sound, and if you think about certain sounds are painful for people to hear too (nails on a chalkboard anyone?). Based on that, it didn't seem so far fetched to me that a certain frequency could kill. I'm not a scientist and I don't have the patience to research the theory, so don't take my word for it. But anyway that's the thinking behind the idea.

**** **My inner nerd was at work again. Runes and stone magic (does it have a name?) always fascinated me, and making them more scientific (I use the term **very **loosely) makes them seem more real. That and I just have fun thinking of stuff like that. Oh, side note: I don't actually know Remus' family history just that he doesn't seem to have any by the time Harry meets him in the books, but I liked the idea of him having one for at least a little while.

***** **I vaguely remember reading somewhere that James' parents, or at least his dad, were Aurors. If so, them being paranoid about gifts from total strangers seemed justified. That and I _do_ remember reading that they spoiled him because they were lucky to have him, makes sense then that they'd also be a bit protective too.

****** **Rowling was pretty vague about what went down in the Black household, but everyone seems to agree that Sirius' childhood sucked. I read enough stories in which Sirius was physically abused that it started to seem logical. It would explain his sort of 'devil may care' attitude and darkish sense of humor (I mean who sends someone to meet a werewolf on a full moon? Even if they do hate them?), which are a bit characteristic of abused children seeking an outlet. it would also explain why he was so affected by Wormtail's betrayal; loyalty and a sense of security would have been rare for him and finding it in his friends he would have clung to it tightly.

******* **(internally groans at having to do another one of these) OK, so I know Snape seems a little weak willed and crybabyish, but he is only 11/12 at the time and this is probably the 1st true gift he's gotten. I think it's only fair for him to be a little human right now, he's a kid! But don't worry, the Snape you all love to hate and hate to love will surface soon enough.


	12. A Use of Time

**A Use of Time**

* * *

"I request your time and service gold keeper."

"Yes, human?"

"Please find for me Master Bloodbiter and tell him the key holder for vault 749 requests his time and service."

A few minutes later Briar was seated in an office opposite a particularly wrinkled goblin.

"I see you wear the face of an old human male again," Bloodbiter growled. He wasn't angry, that much Briar knew from experience, just stating the fact that he, like most goblins, could sense her magical aura and knew it didn't match the face. He was irritated though, as he still didn't know what her natural appearance was.

"A certain amount of consistency could prove useful," Briar grumbled back in a deep man's voice. The goblin nodded.

"I have the items you requested."

"Were there any difficulties?" She asked taking the rather large bag.

"None more than expected," he sneered, referring to the problems goblins normally faced when dealing with humans.

"The profit from the sales?"

"_Most_ lucrative." His smile was almost pleasant at the thought of his 10% cut. It was more than any other wizard would give a goblin, but Briar needed his favor if she wanted his help.

"The account report?"

"Of course," he handed her a roll of parchment. Scanning it, Briar couldn't keep a small smile from surfacing. It was enough to pay for her Hogwarts tuition until her sixth year. Not that she planned to use it for school; it would be too suspicious if an orphan suddenly had so much money.

"I bow to your respect of gold, Master Bloodbiter."

He blinked at the praise and took back the scroll as the human in front of him stood.

"Thank you for lending me your time and service this day."

Bloodbiter stood as well, nodding politely at the goblin style dismissal, "Good day to you key holder."

The sack was picked up and put in an expanded pocket as the man left. Once out of the office Briar checked her watch. She had eight minutes before the polyjuice potion wore off. Moving quickly she left via the Leaky Cauldron and walked quickly through non – magical London. When she was sure that she was far from the nearest witch or wizard she slipped into an alley and transformed, flying back to Hogwarts.

Briar flew through the window and shifted, body back to looking like an 11 year old girl.

"Teagan? Teagan!" There was a soft rustle and the Sorting Hat appeared, courtesy of the Room of Requirement. "There you are!" She swept him up and onto her head.

'My are you excited today!'

"They're here, they're here! The goblins finally got everything and now they're here!"

'Well stop dancing around and let us see these wonderful toys of yours.'

"They're not toys," she tried to pout, but failed miserably as she pulled out the bag and rifled through it, pulling out a shrunken trunk and enlarging it. "Ready for the grand tour?"

'Most definitely!'

The trunk had four compartments. The first looked like an ordinary school trunk, only empty, "I'll fill it with 'normal' stuff later." The second was divided into several parts; one half of the room looked like a study with plush carpeting and had shelves for books and pigeon holes for scrolls with a desk and work table in front with a squishy chair sitting in the corner; the other half was devoid of carpeting and was a standard potions lab with cabinets for potions and ingredients and a large work table; in the center of the room was a large circular depression, ideal for rune circles.

The third compartment looked like a storage center, also empty. The final key unlocked a pit, much like the one she'd seen in Moody's trunk when she'd helped him pack at the end of her original forth year. The difference was that hers was much bigger and deeper, nearly 20 meters, and had a ladder on one wall and a door at the bottom of another.

'The ladder I understand, but the door?'

"Ah yes, I was hoping you would ask about that," she said excitedly, walking over and running a hand over it. "This is an exit. The idea behind it was to be an escape way in case you got locked in or something."

'You intend it for different purpose?'

"Naturally," she replied smugly. "I've been doing some research on wards and other magical protections. All wards stop once they hit the ground and it takes separate wards to cover any underground areas, a precaution that almost no one takes. The same is true for other magical protections and alarms.

"It seems that dirt acts like a natural barrier or stopped for magic; which makes sense if you think about it. After all, every spell, even the killing curse, can be stopped by a thick enough layer of dirt or hard enough rock. So, I figured my best bet would be to attack from underground.*****

"I'll dig a hole as close as I can and bury the trunk up to the lid, which I'll camouflage, before I enter and close the lid. When the door opens it does so 20 meters below where the trunk sits, which is why I'm not opening it now. I plan to tunnel to wherever it is I'm going, siphoning the dirt into here, and once I've got there, BOOM!"

Teagan jumped. 'Boom?'

"Explosions. I'll attack the supports and bring the building down. Saw it in a muggle movie, looked like a good idea."

'What will stop them from apparating out?'

"Most of the buildings I plan to attack have antiapparition wards up so all I'll have to do is keep them from running out the door, or get them when they do."

'If your plan wasn't so reckless, it would be cunning enough for even Salazar. As it is, there are a lot of holes in that plan,' Teagan said cautiously. Briar sighed as she climbed back out.

"Yeah, I know, but it's the best plan I have right now. That's also why I plan on testing it out when I get the ring, hopefully that will give me a chance to work out some of the bugs on something relatively safe."

'I think we need to redefine "safe." I believe we have very different definitions.'

"Safe as in, no people to fire spells at me and I doubt old Voldy will have put any protection underground. Anyway, onto the rest of the goodies!" She grabbed the bag and pulled out a set of crystal vials.

'To hold your memories?' Teagan guessed.

"Yeah, I'll carve the stasis runes into them later, but I figured it would be safer, in case I get caught and someone tries to mind rape me."

'Good idea, echoes of memories are much harder to find and read, nearly impossible if they are hidden.'

Next came boots, gloves, 2 wand holders, a shirt, and pants, all made to fit anyone who wore them.

"Now I won't need different clothes for every time I disguise myself. Thank Heavens!******"

Next she extracted a small bag that she dumped on the carpet, revealing a collection of gems and stones in various colors and sizes, the largest being. . .

'_A diamond-tipped stylus_?! You plan to make rune stones!'

"Yep, you'll find out why when I show you the last thing I got." She pulled out a bundle of cloth and shook it.

'A... cloak?'

"Your enthusiasm is killing me," she commented dryly. "It's not just any cloak. It's made of demiguise fur on one side."

'Demiguise fur?'

"You don't know it? The fur is used to make invisibility cloaks. Since actual invisibility cloaks are rare enough to be nonexistent and the process of making anything similar too long and expensive I had a cloak made from just the fur. It has chameleon-like properties so it'll blend into the environment, making it harder for anyone to see me unless they know I'm there."

'Fascinating,' Teagan murmured. 'You said "on one side" I take it there is something else on the other?'

"Moke skin."

"So the size will adjust? Ingenious! But why not dragon skin? As far as I know neither demiguise fur nor moke skin will offer much protection from spells.'

"I know, but dragon skin doesn't change size which means any cloak I had made would be either too big and get in the way, or too small and restricting. And for me, it's more important to not get caught."

'But if you are killed before you fulfill your contract. . ?'

"That's why I got the stylus and these," she gestured to the pile of stones and gems. "I'm going to carve them into protection runes and attach them with unicorn hair. Between these, the stylus, and the cloak, it cost me a tablespoon of venom."

'That much venom on the market may cause problems later, but the idea is a good one. However, that will take some time, yes?'

"Yes, but I'll manage." Briar answered with a shrug, packing everything back up.

'Hmm.'

* * *

"Evans!"

Lily jumped as James and Sirius crashed into the table, screaming her name.

"Be quiet," she hissed, "this is a library!"

"Which is why we have Remus distracting the book hag."

"Book hag?" Alice asked, looking around worriedly while Marlene laughed.

"They're talking about Madam Pince," Lily told her, fighting a smile.

"An apt description," Sev, he'd giving up on fighting the nick name months ago, commented, idly turning a page in the book he was reading. "Though with her somewhat violent tendencies I think book _troll_ might be a more fitting title, especially since she always carries around that duster like a club."

They all laughed.

"Ya know, you're alright, Snape." James told him.

"Even if you are a potion loving bookworm," added Sirius as they sat down.

Sev sneered at them and Lily elbowed him, "Sev! They're trying to be nice. . . I think."

"We are being nice," Sirius cried indignantly.

"Yeah, _Sev_, lighten up. Besides," James continued, losing the smirk, "we wouldn't annoy the people we want to help us." His comment was met with four disbelieving stares. "What?"

The three Gryffindor girls and lone Ravenclaw exchanged looks.

"Wasn't it you guys that released those birds on Valentine's Day?"

"After painting them pink?"

"And charming them to fly around singing love songs?"

"And dropping balls of paint on couples?"

"Wasn't it your prank that caused Renegade to retaliate by turning everybody into cherubs?"

"With purple wings and _diapers_?"

"I still have my diaper," Sirius happily told the horrified group.

"It was brilliant," James smiled, "especially making it so that no matter what anyone did they wouldn't come off!" They sighed happily.

"You still have your diaper?" Marlene asked in disgust.

"Of course! Such brilliance must be remembered."

"And honored."

"They're trying to figure out the spells Renegade used on them," Remus explain, sitting down. "Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for the rest of us, they haven't."

"We would have, if you'd just help us!"

"No."

"Thank you," Lily said gratefully, turning to Remus, who smiled.

"I guess they haven't told you why we're here?"

"You mean other than to annoy us?" Sev sneered.

"Ack, that's right! We totally forgot!" James and Sirius looked at each other and nodded. "We need your help."

"_Desperately_!"

"It's utterly vital that we have your cooperation."

"A matter of life and death."

"We want to borrow you history notes," Remus interjected, when it seemed James and Sirius weren't about to get to the point any time soon.

"Our history notes?"

"The ones with the pictures!" Sirius added.

"But we can't find. . um, your roommate," James explained, "and we want to borrow her notes –"

"The ones with the pictures!"

"– for the upcoming test."

"You mean the one in two days?" Sev asked dryly.

"Er. . ." the trio exchanged guilty looks. "Yes?"

"And why can't you just ask _her_?" Marlene crossed her arms and looked at them. "Instead of bothering us?"

"He told you," Sirius pointed to James. "We can't find her!"

"That," said a voice behind them, "is really sad."

The whole table jumped and turned to look at the newest arrival. A girl with shoulder length hair brown hair was leaning against a book shelf, a small smile on her lips.

"Really, truly sad. Especially since I'm a Gryffindor and we share a house, a table, and all of our classes together."

Remus blushed guiltily while James and Sirius launched themselves at her, begging.

"Oh wise and understanding history angel," James began, "please share with us your knowledge –"

"–that we lowly creatures may come even a little closer to your greatness," finished Sirius.

She looked over their heads to the group sitting at the table. All three girls were muffling their laughter behind hands while Sev sneered at the groveling boys, and Remus groaned softly.

"And what will you do for me if I do?"

The boys blinked and looked at each other. "What do you want?"

The girl considered, titling her head so the light caught her glasses. Again Remus was struck with the feeling of déjà vu. He blinked and shook his head.

"A favor, every time you borrow my notes, which you have to fulfill no matter what." She pulled out a scrap of parchment and scribbled something on it. "For now, just sign this IOU and I'll give you a copy of my notes."

"Deal!" They signed the paper and she threw them the notes.

"Well," she tucked the IOU into her pocket, "I need to be going, tah!" She turned to leave and then paused. "Oh, and Remus?"

"Yeah?"

"A friend of mine wants to know if you enjoyed your Valentine?"

Remus turned scarlet at the memory of the large box of chocolate he'd received a month ago. Each candy had turned his hair a different color.

"That was _her_?"

The girl laughed. "Yup! She wants you to know that she thinks turquoise is _definitely_ your color."

The table erupted into giggles as Remus sank lower in his chair. Chuckling the girl turned to leave.

"Wait! You said she's your friend?" The girl nodded. "Can you tell me her name?"

"I _can_," she said slyly, "but I _won't_." Remus' face fell and she sighed. "But I _will_ give you a clue: she's often right in front of you." With that and a wave of her hand she left, leaving a puzzled Remus and a curious table.

"What was that about?"

* * *

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stu –"

'You should know this is hurting me.'

"– pid. Hu?" Briar stopped banging her head, which Teagan was sitting on, against the wall and straightened his brim. "Sorry. I just can't believe how _stupid_ I was. I practically told him who I was!"

'Yes, you did and that was stupid, but what is done is done, _so get over it_.'

"Thanks for the sympathy," Briar grumbled.

'In addition, it seems your plan to get Mr. Snape accepted seems to working.'

"True, although I think that's more because he's not in Slytherin rather than a result of anything I've done." She sighed and stood up. "Seraph!"

The tawny owl stared at her from its perch by the window.

"Ready to train?" An affirmative hoot. "Alright then," she placed Teagen on a table so he wouldn't be accidentally hurt and pulled out her wand.

The training had started shortly after her feathery angel found out about the basilisk. Seraph had not been happy his human had done something so dangerous without him. He had allowed Briar to go reaping alone only because he had been a hatchling when she had started and it was easier for her to go without him. But now, at nearly two years of age, Seraph decided he was old enough to help.

It had been a strange conversation for Briar as she listened to Teagan translate the hoots coming from under his brim. After agreeing Seraph could help once he was trained to Briar's satisfaction, she'd sent Seraph out with an order for a book on animal attacks and how to fight and protect against them. The next night they'd begun training.

* * *

Briar sighed and rubbed her eyes.

'You should rest.'

"Can't. Work to do."

'You are a walking zombie. You only need to stop talking and you will _be_ a zombie.'

"Uhhnn."

Teagan sighed, 'Listen and listen well child, you have been working nonstop since you came here. Instead of celebrating Yule and _resting_ you spent two weeks skinning and gutting a 50ft snake. Only to have to go back to class as soon as you finished; granted, you have already gone through the courses so one would think that would offer a break. However, you spend them working on runes, spells, and your projects, and ever since Yule you have come here every night to work. You leave little time for rest, which you so desperately _need_.'

"What was your point again?"

'Rest! Your body is only 11, not the near 23 your mind is. You need rest and I am banning you from this room until you get it!'

"You can't be serious!"

'I am.' He hopped off her head and pointed his brim at the door. "Out! For at least a week."

Briar gaped at him. "You. . you can't. . .you can't kick me out!"

"Yes, I can. As a magical item of Hogwarts I have access to the school's magic and can use it if necessary. So, to bed with you!"

The chair she was sitting in shot toward the open door and dumped her in the hall.

"Seraph!" Teagan called. "Make sure she goes to bed and _sleeps_."

Seraph nodded and grabbed beakful of Briar's cloak. Spluttering with indignation, Briar stumbled down the hall, her feathery little angel dragging her along.

* * *

'Looks good.'

"Thanks, you don't think the rune stones stand out too much?"

'Nope, you sized them small enough. I would worry more about the woven runes.'

Briar stood in front of a large mirror wearing her demiguise cloak. Tiny little stones and gems carved into runes decorated the hems by her feet and ankles and ran along the lapels on the front. The buttons that would hold it closed also replaced by rune shaped stones, all a light, almost grey, amethyst. Tying the stones to the cloak were strands of glittering unicorn hair, which she had also used as thread, stitching additional runes in between the stones.

She ran a hand over them. All the runes were ones usually used in making protection wards, giving her a portable shield strong enough to protect her from hexes, jinxes, and lower to mid- level curses.

"You're right, the unicorn hair stands out more than I would like, but I knew that would happen." Her voice was a neutral tone, reaching a pitch that could be either male or female. A feat achieved by the silver collar around her throat that glowed mutely with blood runes.

'The voice changing necklace is a nice touch, but if someone sees your face it will be pointless.'

Briar sighed, "I know, but that's why I've made a batch of polyjuice potion every month this year."

'And when it wears off?'

"I'll keep the hood up."

'If it should fall off? You cannot add a sticking charm, as it would interfere with the runes.'

Briar crossed her arms and glared at her reflection. It was the one real flaw in her disguise. Her glasses were too noticeable, and even if she did use them, they, like the hood, could easily fall off.

After several minutes of frustrated silence, Teagan spoke again. 'I have an idea: a mask.'

"A mask?" The image of a white Death Eater mask filled her mind. "No way, I'd rather be caught."

'Trust me, please?'

Briar took a deep breath, "fine."

'Thank you, now close your eyes.'

She did and felt the room tip and spin, followed by the feeling of falling several feet. When she opened her eyes she was standing in the Room of Lost Things.

"I hate doing that. Alright, Teagan, where are we going this time?"

They'd made frequent trips to the room; it being a great source of free, if questionable, supplies, and Briar had come to rely on the Hat to get around the confusing piles. His connection to the school allowing him to know where things were. . .more or less.

"You've got to be joking."

Teagan had led her to a pile of masks, hopping off her head to dig through it with his brim. She stared at the _thing_ he'd pushed in her direction.

It was blood red and appeared to be made of several left over pieces of leather all sown together. It had no design, but the stitching of the cloth gave the impression it had been cut from a suit of armor. It was an odd shape, looking nothing like any mask she had ever seen. She picked it and Teagan up.

"A ball mask? Why does the school even _have_ these?"

'It was traditional,' Teagan began, his tone one of an old man reminiscing, 'that every Samhain******* would be celebrated with a feast and a ball, a masked ball being the most popular choice.

'It wasn't until a student was killed that the masks disappeared as the headmistress at the time believed it to be the work of foul play, but could not figure out who was behind it, the masks making it near impossible to tell who was who. For the rest of her time as headmistress she refused to allow anymore masked balls.

'By the time she was replaced they had fallen out of style. Eventually even the dances stopped until all that is left is the feast. Although now it is called the Halloween feast and Samhain and its traditions and festivities forgotten.' His voice was sad and wistful.

"Hmmm, we shall have to bring it back then. Perhaps Renegade can help?"

The Hat chuckled, 'you do me good, child. Now put on the mask. The magic will have faded so you will be able to adjust it and add whatever charms you like later.'

With a shrug, she slipped it on, sizing it as she walked over to a propped up mirror.

"Woah." It started slightly above her right temple and fell diagonally down her face, covering her left eye and its scar completely. It curved slightly at the bottom, ending an inch from her mouth.

'Woah indeed.'

"I look like a knight."

'You look like a protector,' Teagan corrected. 'Which is what you are; a protector, a defender, a guardian.'

"I love it," she breathed. "Thanks, Teagan, but," she took it off, "I'm changing the color."

'Why?'

"Red is a Gryffindor color and Gryffindor fought against Slytherin. It's only a matter of time before people hear Voldemort's claim to Slytherin blood and I don't want people to think I'm Gryffindor's heir or something come to fight against the 'evil Slytherin.' Besides Gryffindor was a light wizard and I'm not light, I'm grey." She tapped her wand against the mask and put it back on. It was now a deep royal purple.

'Purple? Like Renegade?'Teagan's tone was amused.

"Minus the sparkles, yes. The color has grown on me, besides it has no relation to any of the other houses."

'You wear it well.'

"Thanks!"

'All that's missing is a sword.'

"I'm not wearing the sword! It's gaudy and _heavy_!"

* * *

Briar took one last look through her trunk. In storage she had the leftover basilisk skins, bones, and teeth, all carefully labeled, as well as several items she'd gathered from the Room of Lost Things. In the study she ran a hand over the spines of the books she'd gathered; some bought, a few stolen, and a fair number collected from the Room of Lost Things. Those she'd had to repair and restore a bit.

She carefully checked over the scrolls, making sure nothing was missing or forgotten. She lifted the lid of a large box. Inside were the notes, papers, charts, and even tests from her original years at Hogwarts that she'd copied from memory with the help of Dumbledore's pensive; provided by the room. Briar smiled at the arguments she'd had with Teagan, which she ended.

_"__I wrote them, I did the research, put in the time and the effort to complete them. It's all my work, my __original__ work from when I was __actually__ in those years. It makes much more sense to use the work of someone who __didn't__ have prior knowledge than to dumb down my current work. Besides, not only will it save me a great deal of time, but I __want__ to use them. I'm not - I don't want my work to be wasted."_

Teagan had let it go after that. So far she had the essays and notes through forth year, even those for Defense despite there being a different teacher each year. She closed the lid and walked over to her potions cabinet. She had two whole shelves devoted to healing potions and polyjuice filled another three. The last two held various other potions.

Her memory vials, half of which she'd filled, sat in a locked cushioned box next to another locked box that held the broken pieces of Ravenclaw's diadem. Both sat in the depression in the middle of room surrounded by glowing blood runes that would allow none but her to enter.

Satisfied she made her way to the exit, pausing to look at the items hanging next to it. Her cloak, gloves, and mask hung on the wall, waiting. Above them was Gryffindor's sword which Teagan had insisted she take.

She closed the lid and reopened it to reveal a standard student's trunk filled with books, clothes, and other junk. She threw in the last of her things and slammed the lid, sliding a small panel that hid the other three key holes back into place.

"Finally, all done packing." She flopped on her bed, absently stroking Seraph. The runes she'd stuck to her bed were gone, having faded three weeks ago along with the compulsion spell. No evidence, no surprises, no questions asked - that was the plan anyway, and so far it was working.

Her roommates chattered, making plans to write and visit while they packed. Eventually it was time to head down to the leaving feast.

"Don't forget to follow the trunk down to the train tomorrow," she told the dozing owl for the thirtieth time. He blinked at her.

* * *

The Great Hall buzzed with talk, a little louder than normal as people occasional shouted to someone down the table to meet them on the train, which would be leaving in an hour. It was perhaps the only breakfast of the year that didn't have owls swooping down to drop letters.

The banners bearing the crest and colors of the winning house began to sway and then flap as if caught in a storm. Silence fell, only to be broken by a scream.

"Look! Look at the crest!"

All heads turned to stare at the large banner above the staff table. The mascots were moving, stretching and yawning as if waking up. Suddenly they jumped, landing in front of their house tables.

"Greetings students," the Eagle spoke. "We are here as representatives of a group of students."

"Students," hissed the Serpent, "who long for freedom from confining traditions."

"Students," the Badger continued, pawing at the ground, "who believe in breaking stereo types."

"Students," the Raven cawed, "who seek to be creative and inventive."

"Students," roared the Lion, "who strive to be unbiased, open–minded, and fair."

"We seek to unite the school," the Serpent hissed, raising itself high.

"To help those in need," rumbled the Lion.

"School related or not," added the Badger.

"Through laughter and understanding," the Eagle finished.

They opened their mouth and spoke as one, "We are Renegade and we aim to better Hogwarts."

"We bid you good bye until next year," the Eagle finished, flying into the air. All four raced around the Great Hall before making for the banner they came from, freezing as they landed. The Eagle making a slight detour and landing on Flitwick's chair.

"Congratulations on the win Professor," the Eagle told him and then flew to its place on the banner.

* * *

No one noticed the relieved smile on a young girl's face as the Great Hall erupted into excited talk and laughter. No one noticed how one girl sat with only an owl for company on the train. No one noticed as she watched from the window as students rushed off the train and into waiting arms, a look of longing and pain on her face. No one noticed has she watched certain students closely as they left and waited until the station was empty before leaving. No one noticed when she got off the train and made her way to the exit with no one to greet her. No one noticed as the girl made her way through the muggle train station to a bus stop. No one noticed as the girl disappeared.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

In case anyone's curious, I get most of my information on spells, animals, and such from this website: 

*** **I'm just assuming this is true based on the fact that in the books, Dumbledore stopped many of Voldemort's spells with various rocks, statues, and such, including the killing curse.

**** **Since she uses polyjuice potion so often in an attempt to keep her identity hidden, she would need something that would fit multiple sizes and shapes. That or she would need a bunch of different outfits which would be expensive and difficult to hide and carry. This ties into her later comment about the cloak either being too big or too small: with the different sizes of the people she impersonates (ranging from petite women to large men) any cloak that didn't changes sizes would be problematic. IE too large for the small women and too small for the men.

***** **Like Yule this is an older version of Halloween, something I can easily see wizards and witches celebrating given their connection to spiritual matters and the dead (ghosts anyone?).


	13. The Ring

**The Ring**

* * *

Briar's heart pounded in her chest as she overlooked the tangle of tress that hid the Gaunt shack. It was early in the morning, an hour before the sun was due to rise. Taking a deep breath she stepped into her trunk and pulled the lid down. Climbing down the ladder she was greeted by Seraph, who was there against her better judgment. She opened the door and faced the wall of dirt.

"Stay by the cloak so you don't get buried," she told him and Seraph fluttered over to where her cloak hung on the wall. No need to get it dirty, right? She began moving the dirt.

It took nearly two hours, by the end of which she was filthy and sweaty. She made her way back through the tunnel, siphoning off as much grime as she could.

"All right, let's go." She grabbed her cloak and led the way down the tunnel which curved up and narrowed the farther they went. "All right, don't touch anything or go anywhere unless I tell you, OK?"

She looked at the ceiling of dirt two inches above her face and pulled out her wand. It she remembered correctly from what Harry had said, the floor was dirt. She raised her wand and made a circle, stepping back as the dirt rained down. Another wave and the dirt reformed into a circle which she stepped onto.

"Come here," Seraph flew into her arms and she levitated the circle of dirt back into place with them on top of it.

The inside of the shack was depressing. Dust hung in curtains made of cobwebs so thick it looked like fog.

"We're looking for something incredibly dark and dangerous, but don't go just yet." She pulled out a broom and mounted it.

"OK, start, er, sniffing." She flew around, hoping the training would pay off, and repelling cobwebs and spiders as gently as she could. No need to set off any alarms if she could help it.

Seraph remained silent until they reached the stairs where he hooted softly. Up the stairs they flew to a door almost rotted away. The room behind it clearly belonged to a girl. . . 50 years ago.

"In here?" Seraph nodded and Briar scanned the room. "No spells. Ok, let me set up and then we'll go in."

She started with the door moving into the room and placing complicated rune circles every few feet, sticking them to the doorway and walls with small pins made of crystal. Biting her lip she looked around, hoping the runes would do their job and erase her magical signature without disturbing the existing magic. She flew up to the low ceiling and unrolled a large, rune covered scroll and stuck it to the ceiling. Briar ran her eyes over the runes on last time. Nodding to herself, she sent a small pulse of magic into the runes activating them. A faint shudder ran through the building indicating that her ward was up. She wrinkled her nose at the distorted feeling, a side effect of tying her ward to the preexisting magic.

"Ok, Seraph, you can come in." The owl circled the room, waiting for instructions. "Check over there, I'll check over here." She hopped off the broom and moved over to check the desk and floor. Nothing.

She was just going over the lone shelf by the window when there was an ear splitting screech. She whipped around to see, a large, black blanket falling off the bed, a lump wriggling in the middle. Briar crossed the tiny room but as soon as she reached the bed a wave of exhaustion hit her and she slumped to the floor groaning.

Something cold and smooth wrapped around her hand and started making its way down her arm. It burned, but she was too tired to care. Seraph sank his claws into her leg and Briar yelped, awareness returning. She ripped the black cloth off and flung it away from her and Seraph.

"A lethifold?" she panted, canceling the heavy sleeping spell around the bed.

The lethifold billowed and launched itself at them.

"Damn!" She rolled away, dragging her owl with her; Seraph was weak from fighting the blanket–like creature that had tried to smother and devour him.

"Seraph, while I distract it, you check the bed for the ring, but don't touch it!" Seraph nodded weakly and dove under the bed. Briar turned to the swirling cloth that was growling at her. She smacked it with the broom, trying to remember what spell to use against it when something slammed into her from behind, knocking her into the wall.

Briar cried out as her head exploded in pain and struggled against the weight crushing her to the floor. She could hear Seraph screeching and fluttering around. The sound of flesh tearing and something wet splashed across her face. The scent of blood filled her nose and the tangy, coppery taste choked her.

"Bombarda!" Briar yelled, and with a bang the thing was thrown off her.

Coughing, her head throbbing painfully, she stood up. Seraph landing on her shoulder, talons stained a bright crimson. She glanced over at the corner and felt her heart stop.

A man was slowly standing up. Blood trickled down his face staining the expensive looking clothes and turning the silvery hair pink. Despite the blood, dirt, and general grime he was a handsome looking man, despite his obvious age. He looked like a much older Tom Riddle and it took her a moment to realize who she was looking at. . .and what.

"He turned his grandfather***** into an inferi?" she whispered, horrified.

She didn't have much time to get over her shock and disgust as the body lunged at her again. She ducked out of the way only to have a corner of cold, slippery material wrapped around her ankle and tugged her to the floor. Seraph hooted angrily and swooped over to help.

She raised her wand, cursing herself for forgetting about the lethifold, but her arm was yanked back down as the inferi pinned her to the floor. The lethifold loomed over her, eerily like the Dementors in her third year.

"Of course!" She cried, a plan forming in her head. "Seraph find the ring, I can take care of this!"

The owl hooted unhappily, but did as he was told. Briar twisted her hands slipping her wand back into her holster and grabbing fistfuls of the inferi's clothing. Gritting her teeth against the pain shooting through her leg where the lethifold was still attached, she jerked her arms down and forward, knocking the inferi off its already poor balance and sending it crashing into the lethifold. Kicking herself free she scrambled backwards and drew her wand.

"Expecto Patronum!" A large, silver mass slammed into the lethifold, throwing it away from her and pinning it against the wall. Breathing hard, she stood up and turned her wand on the battered inferi.

"Incarcerous!" Thick, black ropes wrapped themselves around the inferi, binding it and securing it in place. She desperately wished to get rid of them, but didn't want to risk exposing the fact that someone she'd been here. Shaking and panting, she collapsed onto the floor.

"Too close. Much, _much_ too close."

After a few minutes of heavy breathing, she pushed herself up, ignoring the aches and pains. She turned and walked over to where Seraph was waiting on top of the bed beside a scratched out hole.

There sitting in the middle of the bed, mostly hidden in a pile of molded stuffing, was a small box.

"Thanks, angel." She flicked it open with the ebony wand and there it was.

A wave of longing hit her. She could see them. All her old friends who understood her. _Her_ Remus and Sirius, who knew what she'd gone through. _Her _James and Lily, her parents who knew who she was and loved her. Harry, alive and whole again. _Him_. Everyone she loved and missed so much, and all she had to do was pick up the ring.

She reached for the ring and Seraph sank his claws into her arm.

"Ouch! What was that for you little –" She stopped and bit her tongue, hard. Shaking her head to clear it of the spell she backed up and pulled out a scroll and a ring identical to the one in front of her.

She unrolled the scroll revealing two overlapping rune circles, and carefully levitated the box. Once it was over the scroll she flicked her wand, upending the box and dumping the Horcrux into one of the circles. She placed the decoy in the other. She placed the tip of her wand on the rune in the over lapping portion and sent a pulse of magic through them. The rune glowed brightly then dimmed as the other runes absorbed the magic. The circles flashed with light and the runes squiggled around transferring the protections on the Horcrux to the decoy.

Once the runes stopped moving Briar pulled a small lead box from her pouch and scooped the Horcrux up and shoved into her pocket. Very carefully she levitated the original ring box and repeated the process with the fake ring, replacing the box back into its original spot. A wave of her wand and the whole in the middle of the bed was gone.

"Where was the inferi?" In answer, Seraph flew over to the bed and pecked at it. Briar raised a brow. "Really?"

Seraph bobbed his head. Shrugging, she moved the still bound inferi over to the bed, laying it down as if to put it to sleep. Next she directed the patronus to move the lethifold to the bed as well and reinstated the sleeping spell.

She stepped back, cautiously keeping one eye on the bed as she set about getting ready to leave. Attaching a string to the last rune circle she made her way to the door. Seraph landed on her shoulder.

"Ready?" He hooted and shifted anxiously. "Yeah, me too," she muttered, tugging the handful of thread. The pins fell to the floor and made their way to door along with the rune covered parchment. Picking them up, she stuffed them in her pouch and eased the door shut.

"Let's go." She mounted the broom, and flew back down stairs, Seraph just behind her. A wave of her wand and the circle of dirt disappeared again. It was a silent flight back through the tunnel.

Once in the pit she took off her cloak, placing it on the small part of the floor devoid of dirt and began moving the dirt back into the tunnel. Once that was done she flew herself up the exit. Closing the lid once Seraph was out, she unlocked her study and reentered the trunk.

She snatched Godric Gryffindor's sword from the wall and strode into the waiting rune circle, pulling out the box and shaking the ring onto the floor. It hit the floor with an ominous clang. Using every bit of anger and fear she had coursing through her she swung the sword. With a scream that shook the room, the ring cracked. Using the tip of the sword, she picked it up and placed it in a metal box and slammed the lid. She hung the sword, cloak, and mask up on the wall and turned to the waiting owl.

For a long time they stared at each other before Seraph fluttered over to her, landing on her shoulder and rubbing his head against her.

"Thanks Seraph, I needed that." She smiled softly at him and scratched his head. "Now let's see about these injuries, hmm?"

* * *

No one noticed, between the many children and usual chaos of St. Mary's orphanage, that a child was missing. No one noticed the bruised and battered girl walking slowly down through the trees of a nearby forest, an owl perched on her shoulder. No one noticed as she sagged to the ground exhausted and slipped into a troubled sleep. No one noticed the screams caused by the nightmares. No one noticed when the missing child returned. No one noticed, when a few days later, she once again disappeared.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

*** **In the 4th book we find out he killed his father, but no mention of grandparents, but I doubt he would have let them get away if they were alive. Voldemort also strikes me as the vindictive type so turning his grandfather into a servant seemed like something he would do.


	14. A Summer of Subtle Shifts

**A Summer of Subtle Shifts**

* * *

Briar arrived at the orphanage and after getting the ring spent a week, as per Sorting Hat orders, resting. She'd get up with the help of her feathery angel and spend the day walking or drawing. Currently it was the last day of her forced rest and she was lying outside flipping through her sketch book and looking at the images she'd draw of her classmates.

The first page was covered in little pictures of all her friends and family sitting in front of the Great Hall, faces covered by the Sorting Hat. The following pages were various pictures of their daily lives. James and Sirius wrestling in their dorm room while Remus watched with an amused smile from behind a book. Lily, Alice, and Marlene huddled in the middle of their dorm on top of blankets and pillows as Lily explained the concept of sleepovers to them. James, Sirius, and Remus with bright purple feathers instead of hair, running from an irate Professor Slughorn who was also covered in feathers. Lily sitting with Severus studying charms together in the Library. . .

She turned to the last page, and smiled at her favorite picture. All the Gryffindor first years as well as Sev were sitting by the lake, relaxing and laughing as James and Sirius jinxed and hexed each other. She was still surprised how well Sev and James and Sirius got along now that Sev wasn't in Slytherin; they were hardly friends, but they weren't trying to humiliate or kill each other.

Briar supposed the truce was a result of Sev attacking, muggle style, a group of Slytherins who'd called Lily a mudblood. The future Marauders happened to be wondering nearby and ran into Lily who'd gone in search of help. When they'd heard what had happened they'd rushed off to help Sev. The fight and resulting detention bonded the four boys. However, James' crush on Lily, which was quickly becoming an obssession, had him jealous of Sev's closeness with her and resulted in a mutual 'I-hate-you-but-respect-you' relationship between the two.

She ran a hand over their smiling faces. Everyone had just gotten out of the last exam and she hadn't been able to resist following after the laughing children. Her eyes scanned the picture resting on a small girl in the far corner, sitting on a rock overlooking the lake and watching the group with a tiny smile on her face. She also hadn't been able to resist adding herself to the picture, a small part of her desperately wishing she could belong to the happy group.

She closed the book with a sigh. There were not as many as she would like and she resolved to get a camera to capture the moments she didn't have time to draw. She rolled over and watched the setting sun paint the sky in color. In a couple of hours she would be back to work.

* * *

Sirius Black stared at the wall, then the letter, up at the ceiling, down at the letter, out the window, back at the letter. He sighed and picked up the letter that had arrived the morning after his first night back home and read it again.

_Mr. Sirius Black,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know you are not happy to be home for the summer, so I have some advice that I hope will make your stay a little easier._

_Spend some time with your brother helping him get ready for school. Your parents should not be able to find fault with that (I hope) and it will allow you to get closer to your brother as I imagine you have grown apart during your year at Hogwarts._

_As for dealing with your parents. Be polite and ignore the prejudice. They are far too set in their ways for anything I can do to change them._

_I know that is not what you want to hear, but arguing will only make things worse, instead try redirecting conversations to safe, neutral topics, such as questions about what they are working on or their opinions on what classes to take in your third year._

_If you feel you must say something against them, say it quietly and politely, presenting it as logically as you can. I know you have a fiery temper and personality, which is what makes you such a wonderful Gryffindor and friend, but it is also why I feel I should caution you. One of my great friends was just like you, preferring to do rather than think, and as such almost never thought of the consequences. It cost him his life, leaving myself and many other to struggle with grief._

_Well enough of this unhappy topic. My last piece of advice is to have fun and spend as much time as you can with your friends._

May you find shade in the light and a candle in the dark_,_

_Guardian_

_P. S. Have you given your brother his pendant?_

The words were the same, unchanged no matter how many times he'd read them in the past week. At first he'd been angry and confused, hoping that he'd get another cool trinket and instead he'd gotten advice that didn't seem all that helpful.

He sighed and ran a hand over his dog pendant. As always the action calmed him. Fingering it he came to his decision; he would follow the Guardian's advice, some of it anyway. He didn't trust himself to argue anything without yelling, forget being logical.

He wrote a letter to James begging him to let him come over and then headed over to his brother's room. The Guardian had been right about that, the distance he felt between him and his brother had definitely grown and he didn't like it.

He knocked, smiling when Regulus answered and he saw that he was wearing the necklace Sirius had sent him.

"Yes?" Regulus asked, moonstone fox resting on his chest.

"Hey, little brother, seeing as you'll be coming to Hogwarts with me this year and I, being the awesome and amazing older brother that I am, am here to tell you all about it and answer any questions you might have."

Regulus smiled at him, a small smile, but it was the first he'd given Sirius since he'd left for Hogwarts the previous year. Sirius grinned back, heart lifting, and jerked his head in the direction of his room. Regulus nodded and together they made their way to Sirius' room.

* * *

Remus Lupin picked himself up off the basement floor where he'd spent the night and unlocked the door. Footsteps sounded overhead and his father appeared, catching him as he stumbled up the steps.

"Easy, son," he murmured, wrapping him in a cloak and picking him up. Remus let him. "Your mother's got the tea ready and waiting, along with a letter from your friend."

Remus smiled weakly. It had been the first moon of the summer, a rough one too, and he already missed his mysterious friend.

His father placed him gently on the sofa and his mother handed him a cup of tea, running a hand through his hair while he drank. He closed his eyes and let the tea and gentle touch work their magic.

His parents watched him closely as the trembling eased and the lines around his face relaxed.

"Where's my necklace?" he asked once the cup was empty.

"Right here," his mother said, handing it to him with a smile, pleased the tea seemed to work as well as Remus had said it would. "How are you feeling, dear?"

"Better, much better," he smiled and eased himself up. "Where's my letter?"

His father handed it to him and he broke the seal as his parents exchanged happily surprised looks. Their son had never shown so much energy after a transformation and it usually took days before he would show the level of enthusiasm he was giving his letter.

With a soft nod of her head Mrs. Lupin directed her husband to the kitchen, following after she poured her son another cup of tea.

"He looks so happy," she said as she entered the kitchen.

"Yes, I never would have thought we'd find anything that could help with the pains. That we could afford at least," Mr. Lupin buried his face in his hands. "To think a simple muggle tea could do so much. If only I'd. ." His voice trailed off as his wife wrapped her arms around him.

Hearing their son's screams of agony while he changed and seeing him suffer for days before and after was hard on both of them. Mr. Lupin blamed himself, his work in protection against magical creatures making his son a target, while his wife would often lie awake, guilt and regret at not being able to protect her son eating at her. Both had searched high and low for anything that could help their son and were extremely grateful to the young girl that had done so much for their son.*****

Back in the drawing room Remus sipped his tea while reading his letter.

_Hey Remus,_

_Sorry I can't be there personally to help you, but hopefully you got my last letter and the recipe for the tea and are drinking it. I can't believe I didn't send it to you at Christmas, I must be an idiot!_

_Anyway, just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you and hoping you're enjoying your summer. Are you planning on visiting your friends? Hope so, they're great boys, even if they **are** a bit crazy._

_You know my friend that helped make your necklace? Well, now that friend is working on something else for you. I don't know when it'll be ready, hopefully soon. My friend also says you should consider telling your friends the truth. They're not stupid and they'll figure it out eventually._

_I know you're probably worried and scared, but remember I know and **don't** care._

_It's just some advice I'm passing on, final decision is yours._

_Well till next time,_

_Your friend that knows and **doesn't** care_

Remus sat, sipping his tea while he thought over the letter. Tell his friends? Should he? And what was the thing his friend of his friend was working on? And, more importantly, who **_is_** his friend anyway?

He drummed his fingers on the armrest. Maybe, just _maybe_, he would hint at it and see what James' and Sirius' reactions were. Then, he would, _maybe_, consider it.

* * *

Briar stood back, arms crossed, and frowned at the chart. It was certainly frown worthy, a complicated thing of lists, timetables, diagrams, and maps, but that wasn't why she was frowning. She uncrossed her arms and tapped a finger against two circled numbers.

"3982 and 393," she read. "Not good, not nearly good enough. Let's see, a goal, hmm." She tapped the paper. "500 non – magical and 50 magicals? Yes, that'll be my goal. So that means I need to reach 3482 and 343 by the time school starts again. How to do it?"

She paced the room mumbling. "Normals are ease. No magical defenses at all, the only problem with them is finding them. If only there was a place all the rotten people. . ." Her voice trailed off and she smacked herself on the head. "Duh! Prisons! Why didn't I think of that before? Hmmm. No need to get lazy, plenty of creeps on the loose and those are the dangerous ones. That should be my back up plan, in case I'm behind.

"OK, magical, I'd like to think I could fill my quota with Death Eaters, but finding them will take too long. I could go reaping in Knockturn but there are only so many people there and not all of them are evil. Hmm. . . I may have to abroad. Seraph will like that, he's been pestering me to travel. Hmm, better make that plan B, in case I come up short.

"OK, now that that's decided," she turned back to the chart. "Two Horcruxes down one Hallow in my possession." She sighed, "Three Horcruxes to go and still haven't found a way to destroy the stone."

Oh, she'd destroyed the Horcrux, but the stone itself, the Hallow, refused to be destroyed so easily. She'd tried, many times. She'd tried cursing it, smashing it, dropping it in a vat of basilisk venom, which had proven a pain to figure out had to get it back out; even hitting it with the killing curse. Nothing had done more than create a couple cracks.

Idly she wondered if hitting it with a hammer would work, but dismissed the idea. If a bludgeoning hex hadn't done anything, a hammer certainly wouldn't. Then again, perhaps it couldn't be destroyed with magic?

Briar paused in her pacing and considered the idea. "Worth a shot," she muttered and made a mental note to find a completely non – magical hammer.

She ran a hand over her necklace on which hung several small charms; a black dog, a fox, and a raven. So far they were silent and for that she was happy. She walked to a table on which rested an apothecary case. She opened it, inside were small squares filled with bags of hair instead of medicine. Above each was a description of the person it came from; female on the left, male on the right, with the youngest at the top and the oldest at the bottom.

Briar was picky with her 'donors,' all of them were adult muggles and in good health, ranging from average to athletic. She selected a bag and pulled out a hair. Tonight she, or rather the Guardian, would be a 25 year old male.

* * *

Severus Snape couldn't believe his luck. Six weeks into the summer and he hadn't been hit once! A feat he was more than willing to credit to his raven pedant and the Guardian.

He'd received another 'care package' shortly after summer began and while he took the nutrient potions (he was willing to admit he was malnourished) the healing potions had hardly been touched. Those that had been used were the ones he gave his mother, same with the Pepper – Up potions.

Sev wished he could meet his mysterious benefactor, or at least thank him. He also wished he could ask for a pendant for his mother, but since he didn't have an owl he had no way of doing any of those things.

Shrugging his shoulders, he packed up the box, replacing the empty potion vial from the days' nutrient potion. He put on the clothes that had come with them and smiled. It was nice having clothes that not only fit but looked good as well. He tucked the pendant down the front of his shirt and made his way out of the house.

It was still early but his mother was already in the garden. She claimed it was her favorite place, just as he was her favorite person.

"Morning Mum."

"Good morning my little Prince."

Sev smiled at her pet name for him and hugged her, slipping the healing potion into her apron pocket as he did so.

"Are you going to visit Lily today?"

"Yes, in a couple of hours. Would you like some help with the weeding?"

"Only if you want to."

Smiling, Sev started pulling weeds.

* * *

Briar, as a silver haired business man, was having a hard time maintaining her semidetached manner as she made her way out of Gringotts. She had handed off the last of the basilisk skin to the goblins, reminding them once again to sell it outside of Britain, in case Voldemort got wind of it and became suspicious. They had been more than happy to comply and had promised a large payday, and to celebrate she was going to follow through with an idea that had struck her awhile ago.

She pushed open the door to Quality Quidditch Supplies and made her way to the counter.

"What broom can you recommend that is safe, reliable, and can endure a great deal of attention from children?"

The man behind the counter lit up like a Christmas tree and Briar mentally groaned. It was the same look that Ron had gotten when she'd asked what was so great about the Chudley Cannons, and one that had preceded a three hour lecture on all things Chudley Cannon.

It was just over an hour and a half later that she left. Honestly the man could, and most likely would, have gone on all night if she hadn't cut him off. Briar breathed a sigh of relief, as she made her way into muggle London. She checked her watch, 19 minutes.

She picked up her pace. She was out of polyjuice potion, and she wanted to get that purely muggle hammer before her disguise wore off. The store was half a block from the Leaky Cauldron and she just made it in and out and into an alley as the last of the polyjuice faded away.

* * *

"Un-freaking-believable."

Briar stared down at the shattered remains of the Resurrection Stone and then at the hammer clutched in her hand. She picked up one of the pieces and threw it across the room. It hit the floor with a clatter and stayed there, unmoving. She waited, but nothing happened. It didn't zip back and reunite with the other pieces it didn't catch on fire, and best of all it didn't bring anyone back. She whooped and laughed.

"Success******!" With a happy sigh she collected the bits, placing each piece in its own bag and adding them to the collection resting in the rune circle. They might be useless as a Hallow, but she might be able to use them for something else.

Humming happily, she set about tinkering with her other projects.

* * *

"Albus! Albus!" Rolanda Hooch burst into the headmasters office panting. "Albus, you've got to come see this!"

Slightly alarmed and a great deal curious, Albus Dumbledore followed after his flight instructor who was practically bouncing off the walls. He smiled as he watched her, glad for an excuse to get away from all the headache inducing papers. Once they were in her office she dragged him over to her desk on which sat about twenty brooms.

"They arrived this morning," she told him excitedly as she picked one up. "Unmatched stability, unrivaled reliability, the safest and best broom on the market for beginning riders!"

"Indeed, and where did they come from?" Dumbledore asked, watching with amusement as his near fifty year old professor reacted much like a five year old child. "I surely hope you haven't been spending your hard earned money on twenty of the same broom."

"Of course not," she said indignantly. "Though if I had, this is definitely the type I would have gotten. But, and this is the best part, they were donated, look!" She shoved a piece of paper under nose, which he took.

_My dear Madam Hooch,_

_I have heard from a reliable source that you are in need of new brooms. I do hope these are satisfactory._

May you find shade in the light and a candle in the dark_,_

_Guardian_

"The _Guardian_ sent them?" Dumbledore was well and truly stunned.

* * *

No one noticed the large, barred owl on the perch by the window. No one noticed the spark of laughter in its eyes as it watched the jubilant flight instructor and the slightly flabbergasted headmaster. No one noticed when it took off. No one noticed when it landed in a tree and became a girl. No one noticed as the girl made her way back to an orphanage whistling softly. No one noticed, when later that night, she disappeared.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

*** **I don't actually know what Remus's father did as far as work, but this seemed like a good idea considering he probably wouldn't have made many friends with creatures if he was working to protect people against them. As for his mother, well, from what I could piece together I think she died early on, but as to why? I figure guilt and worry probably helped do her in, so now that she doesn't need to worry so much I don't think I'll have her die. Maybe, maybe not, don't know yet.

**** **I know this sounds a little farfetched but considering magic and science don't get along this seemed like the perfect loophole. That and I thought it was funny that such a powerful magical item could be destroyed by something a simple as a hammer.


	15. Shades of Black

**Shades of Black**

* * *

Briar slipped through the barrier and onto Platform 9 ¾ and waited. Two minutes later the train arrived, and she watched the few people on it walk off and disappear into a small building. She dashed across the platform and onto the train, waiting a moment to see if she'd been spotted. Nothing.

With a smile she entered the first compartment, bag in hand. From the bag she pulled two books, held together by a sparkly, purple ribbon. She placed four sets on the seats and left, repeating the process in each compartment. She had just placed the last set down when she glanced out the window to see the platform swarming with people.

Briar dashed back to her compartment and watched from the window as friends greeted each other and parents said good bye. A familiar pang of longing shot through her and she sighed. Something feathery and soft rubbed up against her and she smiled. After what felt like an eternity the train lurched and began its journey to Hogsmead. She stood up and stretched.

"I'll be back in a bit," she told her companion. "Watch the cabin for me?"

It only took a couple of minutes to find the three Marauders - to - be and she watched them talk and laugh, marveling at how healthy Remus looked. A few more minutes and she found Lily sitting with a couple of her friends while Severus sat by the window looking slightly uncomfortable. He too looked much healthier than he had last year, and judging by the looks some of Lily's friends were giving him it was not an unnoticed change.

Chuckling at Sev's obvious discomfort, Briar wandered through the rest of the train. She'd almost reached her cabin when she spotted a boy sitting by himself and frowning at the floor. Her eyes zeroed in on the moonstone fox he was playing with. Regulus?

Curiosity winning out she cast a quick glamour, knocked on the door, and entered.

"Mind if I sit for a while?" He shook his head, slipping the pendant back down his shirt.

"Regulus Black," he said, sticking out his hand.

"Delilah Storm," she answered, shaking his hand. A flicker of something crossed his face.

"That's an. . .interesting name. I don't believe I've heard of the 'Storm' family."

Briar pursed her lips and studied him. His tone was polite but conflicted, his face a mask of indifference. Vaguely, she recalled Sirius once telling her that Regulus was the 'perfect, pureblood prince.'

Deciding to see how much influence his parents had on his views, she told him the partial truth.

"That's because it's made up."

Surprise flickered across his face before a mask of polite confusion replaced it.

"I lost my memory in an 'accident' about three years ago." She explained, keeping her tone light and casual, but watching him closely. "I couldn't remember anything. Not my name, my age, who my parents were, nothing. After awhile I settled on that, 'Delilah Storm,' and they shipped me off to an orphanage." Sensing questions she changed topics.

"What about you? I haven't heard your name before, so you must be a first year, right?" He nodded.

"I am, though if you were at Hogwarts last year you must have heard of my brother, Sirius Black?"

"Yes, but I was asking about _you_, not him." Surprise flashed across his face again.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Briar sighed.

"I want to know about you. Who is Regulus Black? What makes him different? What makes him special? What does Regulus like? What does he not like? What does Regulus think about? What can I expect from him? Is he going to be another trouble maker? Is he a rule follower? Who is Regulus Black and why he is he the way he is?"

She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing at the stunned and somewhat lost look on his face.

"I'm sorry, I don't quite know how to answer those questions."

Briar raised a brow. "You don't know who you are?"

He flushed and sat up straighter. "I am Regulus Black of the noble and most ancient house of Black. Son of –"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Briar pinched her nose. 'Why was this so hard?' "I don't think you understand. I'm not asking for you to tell me what _others_ have said you are. I don't want _their_ views and opinions. I want to know who you, Regulus and only Regulus, are. What goes on in _your_ head? What are _your_ opinions? How do _you_ feel and _why_?"

* * *

Regulus stared at the girl, confused, a feeling he had become increasingly familiar with over the summer. He was Regulus Black, the second son of the Black family. A pureblood. A first year student that was destined to be a Slytherin, just like all the other members of his family. . .except Sirius.

Sirius who was different. Sirius who had shamed the family. Sirius who everyone said was a disgrace. Sirius who always argued with Mother and Father. Sirius who Mother said was wrong and a horrible son. Sirius who was always in trouble. Sirius who. . . who was his brother.

Sirius who made Regulus laugh when they were younger. Sirius who was always happy and full of life. Sirius who made him feel valuable, _wanted_. Sirius who gave him the necklace from the Guardian and made him feel safe. Sirius who taught him about Hogwarts. Sirius who was smart and had friends that _really_ cared for him.

Regulus stared down at his hands as a memory from the summer surfaced.

_Regulus frowned at Sirius who, in the middle of answering his question about Transfiguration, had started talking about his friends. . .__**again!**_

_"__What's so great about them anyway?"_

_"__What?"_

_Regulus flushed, realizing he must have spoken out loud, but answered anyway._

_"__I said, what's so great about them? They're so different from us, and everytime you mention them it involves some kind of trouble or argument."_

_"__That's why they're so great!" Sirius exclaimed, rolling his eyes when Regulus looked at him blankly. "They're __**different**__. They have personalities and they think for themselves. We argue a lot, but that's __**good**__. It means we all have __**different**__ ideas and thoughts, and we challenge each other to __**think**__. They're not little versions of their parents like the kids Mum and Dad force us to hang out with at parties and stuff. Those people all think the same, act the same, dress the same, even __**speak**__ the same!" Sirius shuddered in disgust and horror._

_"__We might fight, get in trouble, and be wrong from time to time, but I'd take detentions and Howlers from Mum any day over being a mindless zombie. I like to think for myself and by being different they encourage me to. We're unique and that's why I like them and that's why they like me!"_

Was that what he was? A mindless zombie? A miniature version of his father? Was that what he wanted to be?

"Regulus? Are you alright?"

He blinked in the direction of the worried voice.

"I'm a zombie," he muttered. "A mindless zombie."

He began to chuckle, then laugh.

* * *

Briar sat frozen as Regulus began laughing hysterically. There was a panicked look on his face and tears in his eyes. Shaking off the shock of seeing the stoic Regulus completely lose control, she did the only thing she could think of. She gathered him in a hug and rocked him back and forth, mumbling nonsense into his hair. It was the same thing she'd done to Harry when he'd had his break downs, she didn't know what else to do.

Eventually he calmed down enough to get embarrassed and pull himself away. Briar studied him as he wiped his eyes. From the outburst and random murmurings she'd heard while holding him she had a fair idea what the problem was. She chewed her lip, thinking. Regulus was questioning everything he'd ever been taught and told and it was leaving him incredible insecure and vulnerable; it reminded her painfully of Harry before his first year and then again after he'd found out about their father's bullying ways.

She sighed and tugged at her hair, trying to remember what she'd said.

"There are many shades of the same color." She spoke to the ceiling, giving Regulus some privacy to compose himself. "Hundreds in fact. Take black for instance. They are certain shades that are so light they're almost grey and others so dark they almost seem to absorb light. So many shades, and yet, all the same color."

She paused, fingers playing with a loose thread.

"I like that about colors. All the different shades mean the same color can go anywhere or with anything. And the way I see it, families are like that too; all the same color just different shades.

"As we grow up our color changes, getting darker or lighter. It can happen a lot or a little, you've just got to find the shade that works for you.

"It can be difficult, change, but in the end that's how we grow, how we learn, how we become. . ._us_."

* * *

Regulus listened. The metaphor was. . .odd, but it eased the worry in his chest and he felt. . .hopeful? She looked at him.

"You're both Black, but you're different shades of Black. Sirius has pretty much figured out what shade he is. . .for now anyway, but you Regulus, you're changing. Don't let someone else decide what shade of Black you are."

He shivered and she hugged him again.

"Whatever shade you end up being," she whispered in his ear, "I know it'll be beautiful, just as long as you're happy with it."

She pressed something into his hand and left, pausing at the door to give him a small smile.

Regulus stared after her, not really seeing anything. Finally he looked down at the thing in his hand. It was a chocolate frog. '_From a friend_' scribbled hastily on top. He felt his throat tighten.

* * *

Briar sighed as she walked back towards her cabin. The lost and empty look in Regulus' eyes had cut at her heart. She'd seen that look too many times in Harry's eyes and later in the eyes of those who'd found themselves fighting a war despite being children. Watching hope return left Briar feeling light and happy as only helping someone, mostly children, could. And they _were_ children.

It had been hard at first, to shake the image of the adults she had known from the children she saw running around, but now all she saw were wide-eyed, innocent children. Watching them, knowing what they were going through and what the future held, only made her more determined to make sure they didn't suffer the fate she had seen. She would protect them and, by Merlin, they would have long and happy lives. Whether they liked it or not!

She knew it was wrong to get attached and emotionally invested, but she couldn't help but feel responsible. Harry had told her many times that her maternal streak was greater than even Mrs. Weasley's. She blamed the years of looking after and worrying about Harry; though having the mind of an adult probably didn't help either.

* * *

Arriving at Hogsmead station Briar followed the flow of students to the carriages, climbing into one with Lily, Severus, and a few other second years, all of whom were talking about the books they'd found on the train. Briar smiled, it had taken the better part of two years to write them, with a great deal of help from Teagan, but hearing people say good things about them made all the work worth it.

She chuckled at the thought of what Hermione would say if she was here. After all it was mostly her idea. . .

* * *

_"__Ugh, honestly could they be anymore wrong?" Hermione slammed her book shut and sighed. Rose looked away from the window she'd been daydreaming out of._

_"__What's wrong, Hermione?"_

_The girl in question waved her hand at the pile of books in front of her._

_"__The magical world's understanding of the muggle world is pathetic!" She cried, slamming her hands on the table and drawing a silent snarl from Madam Pince, which both girls ignored with practiced ease._

_"__Not only is the information they do have __**decades**__ behind the times, it's completely inaccurate!" Her head hit the table and she let out a frustrated growl._

_Rose bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Ever since Hermione had signed up for Muggle Studies she'd been aggravated by how incorrect the class was. Even after quitting the class at the end of the previous year, she'd continued her search for proof that the magical world wasn't 'woefully lacking in even the most basic of knowledge regarding muggle society.' She had yet to find what she was looking for._

_"__Why don't you just write your own book," Rose mumbled, wishing she could go back to daydreaming._

_"__What?"_

_Rose sighed, resigning herself to being stuck in reality._

_"__Write your own book," she repeated slowly. "After all, who better to write about the muggle world than a muggleborn? And what muggleborn is better qualified than the smartest witch in her year?"_

_Hermione relaxed and smiled at the passive praise. Then frowned thoughtfully, twirling a strand of hair around her finger._

_"__That __**is**__ a good idea," She muttered, "but what about the muggleborns coming into the magical world?" Her eyes lit up. "I could write an introduction to the magical world as well!" Hermione snatched up a quill and parchment._

_"__They could be a set," She mumbled to herself. "Explaining both worlds, but how to do it? Maybe a compare and contrast style? Or perhaps an encyclopedia of sorts?"_

_Rose smiled and returned to her daydreaming as Hermione continued to scribble her ideas and mutter to herself._

* * *

The carriage stopped, jolting Briar back to reality. Climbing out of the carriage she gave the thestral a pat.

"Maybe I should write one about the muggle world too, to complete the 'set' she talked about. What do you think?" she asked the creature. It huffed at her in a manner that suggested it didn't care.

"You're right," she chuckled. "I guess it's not important right now, plenty of time to think about it and plenty of stuff to keep me busy anyway."

* * *

Regulus' heart pounded in his chest as he followed the line of first years into the Great Hall. He was nervous, not that anyone could tell, as he watched Professor McGonagall place an old hat on a stool and listened to it sing a song about the houses and unity.

"Black, Regulus!"

Not for the first time he wished his family name wasn't 'Black.' As he made his way up the line he stole a glance at the Gryffindor table and caught his brother's eye. Sirius grinned at him and gave him a double thumbs up and Regulus allowed a small smile in return. Things had definitely changed between them over the summer and around the house in general. Less yelling and Sirius actually acting like an older brother, telling him about Hogwarts and what he could expect in his classes, admittedly in his usual crazy way.

Regulus sat on the stool and unconsciously rubbed his thumb over the fox hanging around his neck as his mind drifted back to that. . .unusual conversation on the train. The hat descended and he was left in darkness.

'Well, well another Black,' a voice spoke in his ear. 'Hmm, very different from your brother.'

Regulus wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not.

'Alright, where do you want to go?'

Regulus nearly fell off the stool. 'You're asking me?' he thought incredulously.

'Yes.'

'But – but why?'

The Hat sighed. 'Because my dear boy, I know where you _expect_ to go, but I want to know where you _want_ to go.'

'I thought it was your job to sort us?'

The Hat sniffed, 'Of course it is, but that does not mean I have to do all the work. Besides, it is the person and their traits that make the decision, I just announce it.'

'Oh. I - I see.' He didn't really, but that was the polite thing to say.

'Now, where do you want to go? And make it quick, there is a whole mess of children to get through and I can already hear stomachs grumbling!'

'Er. . .what houses am I suited for?'

'Excellent question. Not Gryffindor, sorry to say, though you are plenty brave. Hufflepuff does not suit you either, despite being no stranger to hard work. Your mind and talents leave you best suited for Ravenclaw and Slytherin.'

Regulus wasn't sure what to think. A part of him was relieved that he wasn't a, to quote his mother 'reckless, fool hearted, mudblood loving Gryffindor,' but a smaller part of him was disappointed that he wouldn't be with his brother. He thought over what Sirius and the girl from the train had told him and an idea began to form in his mind.

'Oh? Interesting,' the Hat murmured. 'Yes, with a plan like that you are most definitely suited for. . .'

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Hat vanished from his head and he made his way over to the cheering table. Sitting down he caught Sirius' eye again and winked, tapping a finger against his chin. Sirius blinked, before grinning and nodding; message understood, they would talk later.

* * *

Dumbledore stared down at the books on his desk tied together with a large, sparkly, purple ribbon. The titles looked promising but he knew that ribbon, it was the calling card of Renegade. He'd checked and there were no pranks attached that he could sense, but if he knew anything about Renegade it was that they were tricky (had to be if they could escape being caught0 and clever (if their pranks were any indications, after all not just _any_ students could get him covered in _pink_). Finally, curiosity won out and he untied the ribbon, picking up the book on top.

The cover was bright purple and sparkling, the title, A Student's Guide to Making it at Hogwarts, was written in a brilliant neon orange. At the bottom, also written in orange, were the words By: Renegade. He opened it to the table of contents and scanned it. The book was broken down into many sections, one for each of the years and classes, as well as covering several other topics such as homesickness.

He flipped through the book and felt his jaw drop. It was incredibly detailed. A large map of Hogwarts was folded in the first few pages along with instructions on how to get around, and many charts, pictures, and diagrams covered many of the other pages. The information itself was also a thing to behold and he resolved to look through it more closely later.

He picked up the second, much larger book. This one was also purple, but a darker shade and devoid of sparkles, the title, A Guide to Britain's Magical World, written in a paler shade. He glanced at the author and almost dropped the book. By: Guardian, was written in a similar shade of pale purple. He opened it and saw the first page was a note from the author explaining the purpose and layout of the book. He nodded to himself; it was the same style of writing as the letters found in Diagon Alley.

He turned the page and glanced at the layout. The book was broken down into four main sections: daily life, sports, social interactions, and politics. Curious, he flicked through the book. It was just as detailed as the first book complete with maps, diagrams, and pictures. Smiling, he settled himself more comfortably in his chair and began to read.

* * *

"You want to _what_?!" Sirius gaped at his younger brother who merely smiled at him. It was two days after the sorting and the first chance they'd had to talk.

"Is there something wrong with your hearing, dear brother?"

Sirius closed his mouth and glared at him. "No, I just can't believe _what_ I'm hearing."

"Oh? Should I use smaller words then? I plan to take over and change the image of Slytherin."

"I got that," Sirius snapped, smacking Regulus on the head. "I just don't understand how you could possibly think you can pull it off alone!"

"Not alone, but with the help of Renegade, of course." Regulus replied, running a hand through his hair in a very Sirius fashion.

"And what makes you think they'll listen to a twerp like you?"

"Because their goal is to unite the school and my ideas will help with that. It is a mutually beneficial agreement, provided they are willing to work with me."

Sirius thought about it for a minute. "All right, I'm in."

"You're in?" Regulus asked, confused.

Sirius grinned, "If you're gonna try and take over and completely change Slytherin, you're going to need help. _Marauder_ help!"

"Marauder?" Regulus repeated flatly.

"Yep, 'Renegade' is a pretty cool name, so me, James, and Remus came up with our own: Marauder. Pretty wicked, right?"

Regulus just shook his head and chuckled. "Fine, _but_ only if you tell me _how_ you plan to help a_nd_ I agree to it, understood?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I can't wait to tell them!" Sirius jumped up excitedly and ran off to find his friends, leaving a bemused and slightly worried Regulus behind.

* * *

Briar watched as Regulus left the library at a much more sedate pace than his brother, and drummed her fingers against the bookcase.

"Wants to change the Slytherin image," she muttered. "I may need to meet up with Teagan sooner than the end of the month."

Mulling over the problem, she carefully placed a small glass ball above the window. With a flick of her wand the runes activated and it faded into the stone.

"Library done." She checked it off the list. "Only about another two hundred rooms to go."

Briar slipped unnoticed from the library, chuckling as she caught sight of Professor Reath, his face flaming as every other step he took released a loud farting noise. The Marauders had taken it upon themselves to 'initiate' the new Defense teacher, an act that cost Gryffindor thirty points and the boys four nights in detention. Smiling, she made her way back to the dorm. Renegade would make their appearance soon.

* * *

Sirius sighed, moodily pushing his breakfast around. Next to him sat James, looking equally unhappy.

"What's wrong with those two?" Lily asked Remus. "Not that I'm complaining! They're normally so full of energy you have to tie them down."

Remus looked up from his plate and rolled his eyes.

"They're upset that Renegade hasn't done anything yet."

Lily gaped at them.

"So," Marlene said, turning to the sulking boys, "you're pouting because nothing's happened?"

"It's been a week," mumbled James, stabbing his eggs. "A week since we've been here."

"We acted on the first day!" Sirius threw down his fork and crossed his arms. "How come they haven't retaliated with something, _anything_?"

The girls rolled their eyes.

"Well, sulking and not eating isn't going to do anything but make you hungry later."

"Why Evans, I didn't think you cared," James exclaimed, a hand over his heart in mock shock.

"She doesn't," Alice stated plainly while Lily glowered. "She just doesn't want to listen to you two complain later about being hungry."

"Neither do I," added Marlene. Pouting the boys ate.

A loud bang and the Great Hall was suddenly filled with glittering purple smoke. Once the smoke settled several shrieks were heard including a very loud, "Ah yes! This is more like it!" from Sirius and James.

The Slytherins all had glittering green and sliver scales for skin along with snake eyes and when they spoke forked tongues hissed behind their teeth. The Hufflepuffs had badger fur for hair with badger noses and whiskers. The Gryffindors sported manes and whiskers along with lion tails. The Ravenclaws had sprouted bird wings and tails and bird beaks for mouths.

The four heads of house had each been completely transformed into their house mascot, though they retained their clothes. James and Sirius weren't the only ones laughing at the lion in tartan robes or the large, fat snake drowning in Slughorn's clothing. The rest of the staff were somewhere in between the students and the house heads in their transfigured appearances, except Dumbledore, who had the weirdest and most unusual appearance. His skin was all green and silver snake scales, his nose and mouth were a badgers', as were his feet. His silver hair and beard had morphed into a large shiny mane, and he had a raven's wings and tail.

Above everyone's head, written with a sparkling purple ribbon was the message:

**Congratulations on successfully surviving the first week of school!**

**To all you first years, welcome to Hogwarts.**

**We've decided to help everyone get more in touch with their houses in the**

**Hopes it will help everyone understand what it truly means to be**

**Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw.**

**Best of luck and we'll be seeing you around,**

**Renegade**

**P.S. It'll last a week, so enjoy the new look.**

Cries of outrage greeted the news that they'd be stuck like this for a week while over at the Gryffindor table James and Sirius were howling with laughter and trying to figure out who had the biggest mane. Whenever asked his opinion, Remus would stroke his mane in a contemplative manner, eliciting more laughs.

* * *

Briar slipped through the door, whispering, "Teagan?" A soft rustle and the Hat appeared on the table.

"Teagan!" With a laugh she swept up the Hat and crushed it in a hug, before dropping it on her head.

'Such an enthusiastic welcome, I take it you missed me?'

"Yep! More than I thought I would."

'I shall take that as a compliment.' He chuckled. 'How was your summer?'

"Boring," Briar moaned, flopping down on a chair. "I got a lot done. In fact, I finally finished my books!"

'Yes, I noticed,' he chuckled. 'Albus has been going back and forth between the two ever since he discovered them, and many of the staff have requested copies of their own.'

"I'll do what I can," she laughed. "Do you think they'll make good Christmas presents?"

'I'm sure, though I don't know if they'll wait that long. Now what of the rest of your summer?' he asked, as she set about making the additional copies.

"Hmmm."

'I see,' he chuckled.

"Yeah," she sighed, "so what about you? Anything interesting happen?"

'Hmm, you mean besides a donation from a certain mysterious Guardian?' he asked amused.

"Did they like them?"

'Oh yes, Rolanda went on and on about them so much Albus was beginning to wish they hadn't been sent.'

They shared laugh.

"What about the other things?"

Teagan shook his pointed top.

'I listened and watched, but no, Albus has yet to form the Order. Although he did talk a great deal about it and there were many discussions with Minerva about who they would take into their confidences.'

"Hmm," she tapped a finger against her lips. "So, do you think it'll be formed soon?"

'Within a year by the sound of it.'

"Good. Right now Riddle is still building his army and working his way up the evil mad man ladder, but by this time next year things are gonna be ugly. I'm going to need the help."

'Speaking of help, what of the younger Mr. Black?'

"Regulus?"

'Yes, he had quite a plan in the making last I saw him.'

"Hmm," she tugged at her short hair. "Yes, I've been wondering what to do about him. I've sent a letter from Renegade telling him to focus on settling in and learning his way around the castle and that 'we'd' meet up with him after a month, which will be tomorrow."

'Why wait so long?'

"Several reasons. I wanted to watch him. I wanted your opinion on the matter. And," she sighed, "I'm really not sure how to handle the situation or what to do with him."

'I see, you want my advice.'

"Your _opinion_," she corrected, his voice was a little too smug for her liking. "You've spoken to him, is he trustworthy? Is it worth the effort?"

Teagan hummed, wiggling to a more comfortable spot on her head.

'Yes,' he said at long last. 'I saw his plan, a part of it, while I was sorting him and it was one worthy of Salazar himself. In fact,' he continued sensing her uncertainty, 'it was because of what a certain girl on the train said that he had the idea. He thought to ask Renegade after listening to his brother, Sirius, talk about them all summer.'

She remained silently doubtful.

'He was also under the impression Renegade would help, after all he wants to change Slytherin for the better and unite the school. Goals he believed were ones Renegade shared.'

"Stupid, guilt tripping Hat!" she groaned. "Fine! I'll help him, but I don't like it. I've got enough to do as it is without babysitting an ambitious Firsty."

'Think of it as taking an apprentice.'

"An apprentice?"

'Yes, train him up and he will be able to help you, maybe even take over Renegade when you leave.'

"Take over?" she muttered, frowning.

'Surely you were not planning on letting it die when you leave! After all the good it has done thus far?'

"I've never really thought about it." She bit her lip. "Has it really done any good?"

'Yes,' Teagan nodded. 'Albus and his staff talk of Renegade and, what are they calling themselves? Ah yes, the Marauders, quite often. There are mixed feelings of course, but the general consensus is that the students are happier and petty fighting is down more than in the past few decades.'

"Alright," she smiled, "but this is going to change some things and since it's _your_ idea you have to help. A lot!"

'Naturally,' he chuckled. 'Now what projects have you got lined up for this year?'

"You're going to love this." She walked over to a table on which sat several lumps hidden beneath a large cloth. She pulled off the cloth. There were about thirty glass balls, ranging in size from as small as a basketball to as large as one of Hagrid's pumpkins.

'You are taking up crystal ball gazing?'

Briar laughed at his astounded and thoroughly disappointed tone.

"Yes, but not the way you're thinking. Each ball is connected to several smaller balls I've placed around the castle. If I tap on a ball and say the name of a place, I can see what's going on there and anything that has happened there, kind of like a magical security system.

"These," she pointed to four of the largest balls, "are monitoring the activity in the house common rooms and in the halls around the entrances. They monitor the dorm rooms too, only for those I just get sound. No point embarrassing others or myself.

"These," she pointed to the next set of balls, "are monitoring the halls; one for each floor." She moved over to the other side of the table.

"These are watching over the classrooms, library, hospital wing, and staff room. This one," she pointed to the smallest, "is looking over the grounds."

'Interesting, but do they work?'

She could hear the challenge and curiosity. Smirking, she tapped a ball. "Staff room. September 24. 2130 hours*****."

Teagan wiggled around to see the ball. Briar let the last staff meeting play out for a few minutes before tapping the ball which returned to its previous misty state.

'Brilliant, simply brilliant! How did you do it?'

Briar chuckled at his enthusiasm.

"You know, I'm not really sure." She walked over to the window seat, her favorite place in the room, and sat. "For the originals, I used the runes I could remember from the pensive and the pieces of the prophecy ball Harry broke."

'You collected those?'

"Yeah, I didn't know if the pieces could be useful or not and I didn't want everything we went through to go to waste, so. . ." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, knocking Teagan off.

"Oh sorry!" She placed him back on her head, ignoring the grumbling. "So yeah, I started tinkering with them back when I was, well, _Rose_, and then I remembered Harry broke the mirror Sirius gave him so I grabbed those pieces too, and found Sirius' half." She sighed again, pushing back the painful memories.

"I managed to fix the mirror, a lucky mistake I don't know if I'll ever be able to repeat, and remembered wishing I had a way of keeping tabs on him. Well, one thing led to another and I ended up with these. Duplicating them was a bit tricky without the original artifacts, but I managed, somehow, Wish I knew exactly _how_ I did it, but." She trailed off with a sigh.

'You make it sound so simple.' Teagan commented lightly, trying to drag her mind from the painful memories. She laughed and he smiled; mission accomplished.

"Simple? Not really, just a lot of free time and a good motivation."

They sat, silently enjoying each other's company as they watched the stars until it was time for them to return to their roles of a dusty hat and an unseen student.

* * *

No one noticed the Gryffindor girl stare across the Great Hall at the younger Black brother. No one noticed as she sighed and pulled out a slip of parchment and wrote down a short message and a random time. No one noticed when she silently followed after him. No one noticed the note she slipped into his bag when she passed by him. No one noticed how distracted and anxious she was throughout the day. No one noticed when long after curfew she made her way out of Gryffindor tower. No one noticed when she disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I know this seems awfully Regulus centric right now, and that's because I plan on using Regulus a lot(at least right now anyway). Mainly because there's so much potential there since he's not a main character and got written off which means I get to figure out his personality.

*** **This is military time or police time and means 9:30 pm. I decided to use for several reasons: 1. I happen to use it all the time and it's easier for m to use. 2. My inner nerd came out again and demanded a "logical" system, which given that she uses a great deal of runes it seemed more practical to have a 24 hour time keeping system than to try and have her use the same number twice and configure it to an am and pm breakdown which just seemed more complicated when I thought about it. It doesn't really matter, I'm just trying to justify my inner nerd. If you're curious about the full reasoning and wish to discuss it with my inner nerd let me know and I'll send you the ridiculously over thought out reasoning behind it.


	16. 3 Holidays of Change and Surprise

**Author's Notes:**

I know I'm running late on the updates and I am so very sorry! More work hours doubled and my computers been on the fritz and I lost a lot of the data for this story because (like an idiot) I forgot to back it up. SORRY! I found the end to this chapter and as soon as I find my notes I'll retype the next few chapters and post them. Again, really _really_ sorry!

* * *

**Three Holidays of Change and Surprise**

* * *

Regulus slipped quietly out of his bed and made his way out of the Slytherin dorm. He fingered a small roll of parchment in his pocket. The message had been short and simple.

**Regulus, **

**If you still wish to meet with us be outside**

**the Slytherin common room ****at 1:37 am.**

**A guide will be provided, **

_**Renegade.**_

It was exactly 1:37 as the wall slid shut behind him. A soft snort sounded next to him, making him jump.

"Did you time that on purpose?" A bemused voice asked.

He spun to face the whisper, heart hammering. The dim light of a torch illuminated a shadow leaned against the wall, black school robes making it impossible to see more than a silhouette, but the voice told him it was a girl.

"It is polite," he said in an equally quiet voice, "to be punctual."

The girl hummed in amusement, before turning and walking away.

"Follow me. And put your hood up. You're so pale you're practically glowing."

He did, glad the darkness hid his blush, and followed her shadowy figure deeper into the dungeons, the lights becoming sparser and dimmer. It was rather unnerving how he couldn't even hear her and Regulus wished there was at least a little more light, the quiet darkness of the dungeons was starting to freak him out.

20 minutes later, though it felt much longer to Regulus, she pushed open a door and motioned for him to enter. The sound of the door closing and a lock sliding into place made him want to scream.

"I'm going to give us some light. Close your eyes so you don't get blinded."

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, slowly opening them a moment later. A ball of light hung in the air above two comfy looking chairs and illuminating bloodstains and walls covered in markings he didn't want to think about. The ceiling was dripping in cobwebs and chains, equally blood stained. Skeletons lay around the floor and on various instruments he refused to look at.

"Where are we?"

"An old torture chamber," the girl explained as she sat in one of the chairs. "I don't think anyone, except maybe the Bloody Baron, has been here in the past hundred years or so. In other words, the best place to meet up without anyone knowing."

"That would explain the mess." Regulus agreed, sitting down and looking at the girl chuckling across from him. Her black school robes hid any identifying markers and a curving, purple 'R' rested in place of a house chest, making it impossible to tell what house she was from.

"So, Regulus Black."

He straightened at her serious tone.

"It has been decided we will help you." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "_But_, our help is all or nothing, understand?"

He nodded.

"Good. Now, as a first year you have no political power or standing in Slytherin House, yes?"

He nodded again.

"But this does not mean the upper years are not watching and passing judgment. Therefore what you need to focus on is getting into their good graces and into a position of power amongst your year mates. Usually this happens when an upper year takes an interest in a younger year and takes them under their wing, like an apprentice of sorts, and teaches them what they need to know, tutors them, and protects them."

Regulus nodded along. He knew all of this already, it having been explained, if far less bluntly, the very first night by the prefects.

"We, most specifically myself, will be filling that role. However, there will be several differences. First, you will not know who I am and will be, to the rest of Slytherin, unaffiliated with anyone or any group. Second, we will meet up once a week, every Saturday at this same time, to go over your studies, answer your questions, and such. Third, in exchange for our help we will give you tasks that you must accomplish."

Regulus frowned and opened his mouth, but she cut him off with a raised finger.

"Allow me to explain. The first condition: by being unattached you will not have to make any alliances that will compromise your objective or force you to do or act in a way you see unfit. You will be well protected by us, and should anyone try to harm or bully you. . . Well, they will regret it for a very long time."

He could just make out the grin under the shadow of her hood, and he felt a chill run down his back. He didn't doubt for a minute she could fulfill that promise.

"It will also make you seem more powerful if it looks like you are operating successfully on your own.

"The second condition: in order to make sure you succeed you will need to be the best in your year, preferably above the second years as well. During our meetings I will test you on everything you have learned during the week, theory and spell work. I will also give you political advice, although the direction it will take will depend on the questions you ask.

"As for the third condition: if you want something, you must give something. Our tasks will help us and, should you succeed, will go a long way in helping you as well."

Regulus narrowed his eyes, and thought about it.

"What kind of tasks?" He could just make out a hint of a smile.

"Our agenda is to help the students and unite the school by restoring the true teachings of the Founders. The tasks you shall be given will reflect that, and they will allow you to prove and test yourself. For example, should you agree, your first task will be to establish a study group with the first years of Slytherin and Ravenclaw. So, do you agree?"

Regulus frowned as he thought it over. A powerful ally that would teach, protect, and guide him and in exchange he had to do tasks that would, supposedly, help him anyway?

"I agree."

"Excellent, we start now."

"What?" he asked startled as she stood up. Chuckling she pulled out a stack of parchment and handed it to him.

"This is everything the first years went over from last year. I included the Defense lessons as well; even though the curriculum is slightly different, after all, learning more never hurt anyone."

Regulus unrolled a random scroll and scanned it. It was a detailed out line of next weeks' Transfiguration class, complete with small pictures showing proper wand movement and a guide to enunciation.

"Each scroll is a class, all the way to the end of the year." She continued as he looked through a couple more scrolls. "We won't go over anything, but I expect you to study them and next week I'll test you to see where you stand compared to your peers. As for your first assignment," she threw a scroll at him.

"The details and instructions. Please complete steps one through five by our next meeting. Come, it's nearing morning and you have class tomorrow."

He tucked the scroll into his pocket and gathered up the others. The walk back was much shorter, though he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not. She stopped outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room and turned to him.

"This," she handed him a vial of red liquid and a coin, "is a pepper – up potion. Take it after you eat breakfast tomorrow. It'll help keep you going until you can rest. The coin is if you ever need me. Tap it with your wand and I'll come running. Oh, and Regulus?"

He paused, one foot in the doorway.

"Good luck."

Regulus nodded his head.

* * *

Briar breathed a sigh of relief as the wall slid shut. It had been a long night. She scrubbed a hand over her face and turned to leave.

"Merlin, I hope this works out, and I still can't believe he really showed up _exactly_ at 1:37." She ran a hand through her hair and tugged at it, a habit she couldn't shake, and yawned. "Only three weeks till Halloween, should I include Teagan in the plans or make him wait and surprise him?"

Mumbling and yawning she made her back to the dorm and, more importantly, her bed.

* * *

Severus sneered down at the boy in front of him.

"Why should I help _you_?"

The boy tilted his head a bit, hair falling into his eye making him look even more like his annoying older brother. The thought made Sev scowl.

"I wouldn't ask if you weren't the best. Unless, my sources were wrong and you are not the best in your year at potions?" the boy asked, brow raised.

Sev replied with a similarly raised brow and a sneer.

"Of course," the boy continued, "I would not expect you to agree for nothing."

"And what," Sev asked, crossing his arms, "could a _firstie_ do for me that I could not do much faster and better myself?"

The first year smirked at him in a way that greatly reminded Sev of himself. He felt his respect for the younger boy rise a bit. A microscopic bit.

"My family library is _very_ extensive and includes certain books that are rather. . ._difficult_ to attain." He pulled out a scroll. "I took the liberty of copying, for personal reasons, the first few chapters of Damien Gilkyson's Of Poisons and Antidotes."

Sev's eyes widened. That was an extremely rare book, so much so that even the Hogwarts library didn't have it; though that was mainly due to most of the poisons being classified as 'dark.'

"I might be able to persuade my mother to send me the book if my grade in potions warranted the interest."

Sev smiled. The boy was good, obvious but that could be fixed with time.

"Very well, Black, I'll help your study group in exchange for any 'notes' you gather from your private studies."

"Deal."

They shook hands and Regulus handed over the scroll.

"I won't put up with any dunderheads!" Sev warned over his shoulder, unrolling the scroll as he walked away.

Regulus had the grace to wait until the older boy was gone before rolling his eyes.

* * *

Lily crept down the stairs leading to the Common Room. Reaching the bottom step she took a deep breath and poked her head around the corner. A quick scan and she was back in the safety of the girl's staircase.

"OK, everything _looks_ clear."

Her dorm mates exchanged glances.

"Well, that's good," Alice said nervously. "But –"

"But 'looks' doesn't mean 'is.'" Marlene interrupted. "And I really don't want a repeat of last year."

All three girls shuddered.

"So how do we tell if it _is_ safe?" Alice asked, biting her lip. After several minutes of silence Lily let out an annoyed sigh.

"I don't know," she admitted, tugging on her hair. "I guess one of us will have to go out and see if. . ." Her voice trailed off and the girl's fell silent again, eyeing each other. None of them were willing to be the one to brave the prank they _knew_ was there.

"Excuse me." A girl with short brown hair and silver glasses swept past them and into the Common Room. There was a collective intake of breath as they waited for something to happen.

Nothing.

The bespectacled girl paused half-way through the room and turned to look to them.

"Are you coming? Breakfast has already started and I know the boys have left already, so if you want any food you better hurry." She cocked her head to the side and a small, almost sly, smile appeared. "Or are you waiting for someone? Or perhaps somet_hing_?"

The three girls blushed and hurried to catch up, but didn't relax until they were on the other side of the portrait. The girl laughed softly at their relieved expressions and continued down the hall. Lily quickened her pace to walk beside her.

"Sorry about that, it's just that after what happened last year we were worried something might happen." Lily explained, trying to recall the girl's name. 'It was something to do with plants, right?'

"Oh, well thank you _so _for making me your guinea pig."

Lily blanched and the girl rolled her eyes.

"Relax," she continued in a gentler tone, "I'm just teasing you."

She winked and Lily smiled, poking her playfully for messing with her.

"So how did you know there wasn't a prank set up?"

"Hmm? Oh, I didn't. I just figured that between it being Halloween and the boys, what are they calling themselves? Marauders? Well, anyway," she gave a dismissive wave. "With them and Renegade running around I think everyone will get pranked at least once today, so there's no point in trying to avoid it."

Lily groaned, realizing she was right, and the girl laughed.

True to her prediction, by the end of the day not a soul had been spared, with the exception of the deceased ones as they were rather hard to prank.

The Marauder's started the day off with a bang, literally, that turned people's books, notes, food, and in a few instances clothing into spiders, bats, rats, and bugs. Swatting or squishing them proved to be bad idea as doing so caused them to explode covering the victim in fake blood or slime.

Once the screams and general exclamations had died down, for the most part, Renegade responded.

**Most entertaining!**

**For our response we have decided to turn back the clock and**

**Pay our respects to the much older traditions of Samhain.**

**We hope you enjoy the show, and to get you in the mood. . .**

"'In the mood,' by what couldst our most noble acquaintances have meant by such a phrase?" James slapped a hand over his mouth, an expression of mixed amusement and irritation on his face.

"Hoho! Thou speaketh akin to a mann of aged years!" Sirius laughed.

"Me thinks it hast become grossly plain to what thine noble Renegade hath meant." Remus said, smiling broadly. His friends scowled at him.

"Thou appears to be finding much amusement in mine most unsavory predicament." James wrinkled his nose at the use of, in his opinion, needlessly long words.

"Aye, 'tis true," Remus admitted. "For 'tis but the rarest of occurrences when thee, my dearest of compatriots, find words exceeding the length of thine most noble names tripping from your tongues."

Lily, who'd overheard the last comment, couldn't help but add, "Most assuredly do I as well find such feelings within mineself. T'was becoming such an unheard of occurrence I hath found my humble self pondering if thou even hath the sense to possess words of greater length than a few letters."

The two boys frowned, trying to decipher the wording. It was several minutes before they realized they'd been insulted, and Lily and Remus laughed at their twin looks of outrage. Fortunately for the two black haired boys, their predicament was soon forgotten as they left the Great Hall and were caught up in the other half of Renegade's plan.

The halls were filled with pumpkins that floated around letting off eerie sounding music. At first they seemed perfectly harmless, if a tad creepy, bit then they started spitting glowing seeds. Every time a person was hit with one of the glowing pumpkins seeds they were forced to dance until the pumpkin's song was over.

The Marauders were thrilled and made it their mission to get as many people dancing as possible and were especially delighted when they managed to smuggled a pumpkin into their Transfiguration class.

They had to wait until her back was turned before pointing the enchanted pumpkin at her. It spat, and a glowing seed landed right in the middle of her bun. Almost immediately the class was treated to the sight of their normally strict and stern professor performing a very lively two step in time to the eerie music. Despite the resulting detention and loss of house points the Marauders decided it was worth it.

By the end of the day not a soul had been spared the wrath of the pumpkins. Nor had anyone managed to escape the many smaller Marauder pranks.

* * *

Briar sat, staring listlessly out the window while one of her enchanted pumpkins floated around the room. The creepy, slightly sad music fit her mood perfectly. Seraph perched on her knee occasionally bumping his head against her hand. She would give him a small smile and a scratch before turning back to the window.

She had escaped to the room as soon as the last class had ended, where she had paced the room for hours until the need to get away, to escape, had slowly dwindled and she had collapsed by the window. But now she had no energy to fight the memories.

'It's not their fault. They didn't know.' She chanted the words over and over again, but it didn't stop the flow of simmering resentment she felt at what they had indirectly put her through. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

'It's not their fault. They didn't know.'

How could they possibly know that the fake blood they used would look almost _exactly_ like real blood?

'It's not their fault. They didn't know.'

How could they know that her worst memories were, in one way or another, _always_ connected to blood?

'It's not their fault. They didn't know.'

Her fingers dug into her palm and a new chant took over. 'It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.'

'But it was,' a voice in the back of her head whispered. 'It _was_ real. And they bled. They all bled.'

Seraph leapt off her lap as she pulled her knees up, curling in on herself. Fingers buried in her hair as if to claw out the painful voice, but it continued anyway.

'So much blood, so thick, so _warm_, so _red_.'

With a strangled cry her hold slipped and she fell into the memories.

* * *

_She couldn't look at the face. She didn't want to see what expression was there. No, she would only remember when those eyes were filled with light, and laughter was the only sound that came from that mouth._

_But she couldn't ignore the blood. It pooled on the floor, surrounding her, an ocean of red with a body lying like an island in the middle._

_She couldn't ignore how, the warmer it got, the colder the body became._

_She couldn't ignore when the body became so cold it burned._

_She couldn't ignore the blood, a liquid blaze beneath her._

* * *

She couldn't ignore how the tears that carved their way down her cheeks were just as hot as the blood had been. She couldn't ignore how shedding them left her feeling as cold and empty as. . . as the body.

Teagan found her, in the early morning hours, curled up, moaning, and shaking from the nightmares. It used its brim to gently slap her awake, waiting until awareness returned and she sat up before speaking.

"Child have you ever preformed a cleansing ritual?"

She shook her head and the Hat sighed.

"Sleep now, child. I will instruct you after you are rested."

She sniffed and nodded. "Stay?"

"Yes." Teagan patted its brim up her body, gently guiding her to lie down. "I will instruct you after you are rested."

"Moon's nex' week," she mumbled, lying down.

"You shall still be able to see him," it assured her, wiggling up onto her head. 'Now, sleep.'

She already was and the Hat settled itself. Of course it would stay, and it would do what it could to keep the memories and nightmares at bay.

* * *

Voices woke him. The urgent sounds of whispered bickering punctuated every few seconds with a loud 'shh!' He resisted the urge to groan and hoped that if he pretended to be asleep the voices would eventually leave and he could get some more rest.

They didn't, if anything they got louder. He mentally growled and focused on the voices. He would figure out who they were and they would regret not letting him sleep.

". . .just tell him!"

"No! Don't want to scare. . ."

"Why would. . ."

". . .like with your parents. . ."

". . .completely different!"

"Not to him. . .always so nervous."

"Yes! which is why. . ."

"No!. . .can't just tell him we know. . . better to wait. . .must have a reason. . ."

". . .never tell us. . .trusted him!"

". . .which is why . . ."

". . .don't care!"

"SSh! He's sleeping. . ."

". . .still can't believe. . ."

"Yeah, so obvious. . ."

". . .every month!"

He recognized the voices and with a sinking heart he realized what they were talking about.

"What do you think you're doing?" Madam Pomfrey's voices hissed angrily. The whispering voices fell silent with only a vague "er. . ." for an answer. "Out! Out! He needs rest and he's not going to get it with you two making a racket, so out!"

The sound of hurried footsteps followed by a door opening and closing and it was silent once more with only the gentle muttering of the irritated matron. Worry and unease had his thoughts in a tangled mess but, gradually, exhaustion overcame him and he slipped into a troubled sleep.

* * *

_His friends stood before him, looks of disgust and hate on their faces. He turned and ran. They chased him down the halls, shouting and yelling. He ran and ran, but no matter how fast or how far he ran they were always just a few steps behind him. He was tiring quickly, stumbling up and down the stairs, and eventually he tripped and fell. He could hear his friends closing in on him and struggled to stand._

* * *

Remus' woke, heart hammering as he looked around. Seeing the infirmary was empty he breathed a sigh of relief before slowly sitting up. The memory of the dream and the realization that his friends knew his darkest secret had his stomach twisting itself in knots. He closed his eyes and tangled his hands in his hair, wondering, if he begged hard enough, if Madam Pomfrey would let him stay here for the rest of the week, or month, or maybe even the year.

Deciding it was worth a shot he looked up to call her and spotted the tea and letter on his bedside table. The familiar sight relaxed him a bit and he put off pleading with the matron in favor of pouring himself a cup. He let the brew work its' magic, wishing it could ease his thoughts as well as it did the pain in his joints. It didn't so he turned to the letter.

_Hey Remus,_

_I hope you're feeling ok. You look a right mess right now (I'm writing this as I sit with you); guess it was a rough moon. I hate that, seeing you in pain, it makes me feel useless. It also looks like you're having a nightmare and I think I know why._

_Ya see, I was here when James and Sirius stopped by and I know they woke you up. I also know you know what they were talking about so I'm guessing your dream had something to do with them telling you they hated you or something? (Merlin, I hope I'm wrong!)_

_I know you're scared, Remus, but you can't avoid them forever. Trust me when I say everything will be ok. Trust me Remus? Please? I know it's scary but I promise you will always find someone by your side._

_Your friend that knows and **DOESN'T** care_

_P.S. I left some chocolate, hope it helps with the nerves!_

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She was right, he couldn't' avoid them forever, mostly because he knew they would find a way to corner him if her tried. No, he couldn't avoid them, but he _could_ put off seeing them for as long as possible.

'As long as possible' turned out to be three hours and twenty-six minutes. Not _nearly_ long enough in his opinion, but he obediently left the hospital wing when he was told to and trudged as slowly as possible up to the Gryffindor tower. He faced the Fat Lady and wondered if he could pretend to have forgotten the password.

No such luck.

The portrait swung open as a group of forth year girls made their way out all talking and laughing. The last one held the entrance open for him and he slipped in with a muttered, "thank you."

He scanned the Common Room and spotted James and Sirius in their usual corner whispering. He eyed the door to the dorms on the opposite side of the room than him and contemplated the odds of him making it unseen. They weren't good but he managed it, collapsing onto his bed and grabbing a book in a desperate attempt to distract himself.

He was still staring at the same page when the door burst and Sirius and James entered, still arguing. They froze when they saw him and Remus' heart clenched a bit.

"Hey guys," Remus was rather proud at how steady and natural his voice sounded.

"Hey Remus," James answered, striding over to his bed and sitting down. "We were expecting you to be back sooner."

"Yeah," Sirius flopped down next to James, "we were starting to think something had happened."

"To your mum," James added hastily, keeping up the pretense they were talking about Remus' cover story.

"No, she's doing good, but it's nice you were worried."

Silence fell. Remus continued to 'read' his book but didn't miss the looks his roommates exchanged. He saw them nod and tensed as James turned back to face him.

"Hey, Remus, we need to talk to you about, erm, something."

"Oh?" Remus fingered the necklace Madam Pomfrey had returned to him before he left the infirmary. "About what?"

"About you getting sick a lot." James shifted uncomfortably and Remus swallowed the lump in his throat. James licked his lips and glanced at Sirius. "Yeah, see you were always getting sick and stuff so we, Sirius and I, well, we were worried about you. You never talked about _what_ was wrong with you and we got curious and well. . . We had a couple of ideas but –"

"I know," Remus interrupted. "I know, you know I'm a – a werewolf," He finished at a whisper.

"So it's true?" Sirius asked, dimly Remus was amazed he'd been silent so long. "You really are a. .?"

"Monster? Yes, I am." Remus ducked his head, waiting for the yelling and screaming to start.

"You're not a monster!" The tone was harsh and Remus looked up to see James scowling at him. "How could you say that?"

"It's what I am," he whispered, refusing to meet their eyes.

"No, it's not!" Sirius yelled, jumping up from James' bed. "You," he poked Remus in the forehead, "are not a monster, so don't ever say that again or I'll hit you!"

He crossed his arms and glared at Remus. Remus blinked at him and Sirius smacked on the head.

"Sirius!" James sighed, exasperated.

"He shouldn't have said it in the first place," Sirius retorted, unrepentant.

James rolled his eyes, but nodded. "He's right, surprisingly, -"

"Hey!"

"–you're not a monster and we certainly don't think so if that's what you're worried about, so don't say that. It's what narrow minded. ."

". . .stupid. . ."

". . .idiotic. . ."

". . .small minded. . ."

". . .dung for brains. . ."

". . .bigoted prats say."

The two black haired boys looked at each other and nodded, satisfied with their description.

"So you guys are ok with this?" Remus looked between the two of them. "Ok with sharing a room with a – with someone like me? With that fact that I turn into a bloodthirsty freak once a month? That I grow fangs and claws and fur? You're just ok with that?!"

James and Sirius exchanged another long look.

"Ok with you being a werewolf?" James asked "Yes."

"But!" Sirius added, "we are _not_ ok with you not trusting us."

They crossed their arms and looked at him, twin expressions of mock outrage that didn't quite hide the genuine hurt on their faces. Remus winced.

"It's not that I don't trust you. I was just. . afraid." The word came out a whisper and he swallowed. "All my life I've had people shun me and hate me, heard people say. . . horrible things about werewolves and I – I was scared yo –you wouldn't want t- to be friends anymore."

Remus bit his lip, eyes blinking furiously. "You guys are my friends, _real friends_, and I – I like hanging out with and I didn't want to lose that."

"Idiot," Sirius muttered, smacking Remus on the head again. "You really think we care about that? I mean, come on! Do you remember what I told you about my family?" He didn't wait for an answer. "If I were to judge, which I'm _not_, that'd make me a hypocrite. Worse, it'd make me like _them_."

Sirius shuddered, face twisted in disgust. "Even if I had an issue with werewolves, _which I don't_, I'd keep you just to piss them off!" he finished smugly, as if that solved everything.

"Wow, that was almost heartfelt," James drawled, rolling his eyes. "But he's right, you're stuck with us."

Remus stared at them for a long moment letting their words sink in and once they did he tackled them in a hug.

"Merlin," Sirius gasped after Remus released them. "You're strong for such a scrawny guy."

"Yeah," James agreed, rubbing his ribs. Remus just grinned at them.

"So," James continued as they settled themselves on the floor, "tell us everything."

"Yeah, we want to know all about your little, ah, furry problem."

"Wait!" James shouted, staring at Sirius, "say that again."

"Er, we want to know all about your little, furry problem?" Sirius repeated, looking questioningly at James.

"That's it!" James jumped to his feet and dashing to his trunk. He flung it open and started rummaging through it.

"Found it!" He crowed triumphantly, sitting back down.

"A book?" Sirius asked, aghast. "James how could you?"

James threw a sock at him. "This is the book from the Guardian, dung for brains, and look!"

He flipped it open and turned it around for the other two boys to see. Written inside the cover was the message, '_In case you should have any furry problems_.'

"Now look at this!" James riffled through the pages until he found what he was looking for. Clearing his throat he read, "'One of the little known advantages of being an animagus is that, should they come across a werewolf during the full moon, as long as they are in their animal form they will not be afflicted even if they are bitten numerous times.'"

"He knew," Sirius muttered. "The Guardian _knew_ that's why he gave you that book!"

James nodded excitedly, and flicked through the book.

"Wait, wait, wait," Remus looked from James to Sirius, frowning. "You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking, right?"

His friends looked up from the book and grinned.

"We're gonna become animagus!" They said together and Remus groaned.

"That's incredibly dangerous! Not to mention. . ."

His friends tuned him out and Remus threw his hands in the air. He knew it was dangerous and he would tell them, but inside he was dancing with happiness at their acceptance and eagerness to help him.

He was still buzzying with delight hours later as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_He was still struggling to stand when a hand appeared in front of his face and he looked up. Impossibly black eyes peered at him over silver half-moon glasses while short, brown hair curled around the face. It was the girl._

_He took the hand and she pulled him up. He made to turn and run, he could hear the sound of angry voices getting closer, but the girl held him back._

_"__Trust me?" She begged. "Please?"_

_He nodded and she smiled, holding his hand while they waited._

_Two boys rounded the corner and, seeing them standing there, skidded to a halt, breathing hard. The taller boy recovered first and strode up to him, fist raised. He tensed, but the boy merely punch him lightly on the shoulder._

_"__That's for not telling us," he panted._

_"__And this," his messy haired companion continued, slapping him upside the head, "is for running away."_

_The two boys stepped back, looking satisfied, and turned to leave. After a few steps they turned back. "Well, are you coming or not?"_

_"__Of course he is," the girl answered, giving him a gentle push towards them. He stumbled forward and they threw their arms around him, leading him away. Behind him he heard the girl say, "I told you it would be ok."_

* * *

"Alright, take a break." She relented, smirking as Regulus collapsed into a chair. His usually perfectly combed hair was a mess, his face sweaty, and his clothes covered in grime. Chuckling quietly, she inspected the dungeon turned class room. The bloodstains, cobwebs, and slime were gone, but. . . "It's still dirty."

Regulus, still breathing hard, glowered at her. "I don't see how _cleaning_ is helping me achieve anything."

His voice was tight with suppressed annoyance and irritation and her smile widened. It was their eighth meeting and she was finally beginning to see cracks appear in his pureblood mask. 'And wasn't it about frickin' time too?'

"It helps," she answered calmly, "by building up your power and strength."

She flicked her wand, ridding the room of the last of the dirt.

"Right now your body and magic are weak and if you want to be the best you need to be strong. As I've told you before," she added, mostly to annoy him. She rifled through his notes, comparing them to hers and questioned him on various theories. Once she was satisfied he understood them and his breathing was back to normal she decided it was time for some fun.

"Ok, show me what you can do." She watched as Regulus' eyes lit up, an innocent eagerness she didn't see often entering them, and smiled. It didn't take a genius to see this was his favorite part.

After thirty minutes of running through every spell he'd been taught, she had him run through the ones _she_ had taught him. Towards the end she taught him a simple charm, a variation of the lumos spell that filled the room with tiny star-like lights. It took him a few tries but he got it, an impressive feat for a first year and she made sure to tell him so. Once he did she showed him how to move them with his wand.

With a small smile,Briar sat back, watching him play. He would never admit it was play, no doubt it had been pounded into his head that Blacks didn't 'play' anything. She frowned at the thought; it was something that bothered her greatly, how reserved Regulus was. It was. . .not right, unnatural almost. A child should not be so withdrawn.

She watched as Regulus flicked a light at a group he had clustered together.

'Well, that's going to be interesting.'

Sure enough, once the little star hit, the cluster exploded sending the little lights flying in every direction. Regulus watched as, one by one, all the little lights he created started bouncing around. Briar closed her eyes; all the fast moving lights were giving her a headache, but opened them almost immediately when she heard laughter.

Regulus was laughing. Soft, quiet laughter, like he was afraid to make the sound, but it was still laughter and it lit up his whole face making him look much more like his older brother. It tugged at her heart and she silently adding "make Regulus laugh more" to her growing list.

"That's enough for now," she called after a few minutes. Regulus nodded as he put away his wand, and began gathering up the loose scrolls and notes. "You're doing a wonderful job on your studies and we're very impressed with how well your study group is going, especially with the new additions from Hufflepuff."

Regulus looked up and smiled.

"Before you go, I have something for you." She'd been dying to give it to him, but had decided to wait until the end. "Happy Christmas."

There was a beat of silence as Regulus stared at the thing in front of him.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking present wrapped in sparkling purple paper.

"You need to wait until Christmas to open it."

"Of course. Though, forgive me, I did not get you anything."

Not for the first time Briar was glad she kept her hood up so Regulus couldn't see her face as she tried not to laugh at his obvious embarrassment.

"I know, and I didn't expect you to. You wouldn't have gotten anything either, since I don't really celebrate Christmas, or Yule if you prefer-" a _huge_ lie, "-but I saw this and thought of you. Hope you like it."

She watched him finger the package and knew he was dying to open it. Well, maybe a little task would help keep his mind off it.

"You are returning home for the holidays, yes?" He nodded. "Good, we have one last task for you to complete before you go and get all lazy on us."

He bristled slightly, but was fairly used to her teasing manner and wasn't overly offended.

"I need you to deliver these." She handed him five differently colored bags and a scroll. "The scroll will tell you which bag goes to who. The best time to do so unnoticed will be while everyone is on the train, or," she smiled impishly, "during this weeks' entertainment."

* * *

"This is totally wicked!" Sirius yelled as he slid across the hallway. James and Remus, laughing and shouting, slid after him.

The whole school had woken to find the castle transformed into an icy wonderland. Halls were covered in snow and ice. Staircase would turn into frozen slides if you tried to go down them. Snow people ice skated around, tossing snowballs and helping those who couldn't keep their balance. Holly, mistletoe, icicles, and garish green and red baubles decorated everything from ceilings to suits of armor.

"I'm never going to make it to class on time," Lily moaned, clinging to the wall as she slipped and slid down the hall.

"Oh, come on, Evans," James called, sliding up and giving her a push. "It's not that hard."

Lily shrieked as she slid, arms flailing, into a nearby classroom with a crash.

"Wrong classroom, Evans!" Sirius shouted.

"Potter!" Lily roared, "you are in _so much trouble_!"

Laughing, James slid after his friends while a snowman helped Lily onto the ice and pushed in her in the right direction.

The last few days of class were filled with shrieks and laughter, though the highlight for many was watching Dumbledore ride around on the back of a snowman. Inspired by the sight the Marauders tried to mimic him. Unfortunately for them, they were unable to convince any of the other snow people to give them a ride. Instead they settled for being pushed and seeing whose snowperson could skate the fastest.

* * *

Briar grinned as she watched the students laugh and joke around as they made their way to the train. There was a soft rustle and Teagan appeared, popping into existence above her and landing on her head.

"Read to play 'Santa Claus' tonight?"

'I can hardly wait!'

* * *

He was awake, but he refused to move and kept his eyes shut. As long as he was asleep he could pretend. Pretend that when he opened his eyes there would be something waiting for him, maybe even another Christmas miracle. The idea was wonderful and desperately wanted to stay in his imaginings, but his body had other plans. With a sigh, Severus rolled out of bed and made his way to restroom, firmly keeping his eyes way from the foot of his bed.

Once finished with his morning routine he opened the door and slowly let his eyes travel around the dorm. The beds were empty as he was the only one of the second year Ravenclaws to be staying over Christmas. Finally his eyes landed on his bed and he felt a smile break out across his face.

He had presents!

Hurrying over he looked at them, enjoying the feeling of simply _having_ presents, but eventually he gave into the desire to open them and picked up the first gift.

It was from his mother and he smiled as he wrapped the blue scarf around his neck, fingers tracing over the entwined double 'S' done in bronze. It was simple yet beautiful, just like his mum.

The next was Lily's gift. She had given him a book about prank potions. Sev smirked as he flicked through the book. He had been the butt of, and unknowing test dummy for, a number of pranks by the three Gryffindorks and, while he almost always gave as good as he got, this would go a long way in evening the odds. After all, three on one was a tad unfair even if, and again he would _never_ admit it but, he enjoyed the challenge.

He was surprised to get a gift from Regulus. True, he had agreed to help the runt with his study group, after a great deal of pestering and bargaining, and with a lot a complaining that had vanished after Lily had also agreed to help by tutoring them in charms, but he hadn't expected any sort of acknowledgement or thanks. Sev scanned the scroll. It was the next few chapters of Gilkyson's book as well as several pages on borderline dark spells.

He raised his eyebrows at that. Yes, he was interested in the Dark Arts, but he hadn't thought he'd been that obvious. Hmm. . . Either way, he had to hand it to the brat, for being the brother of that idiot Sirius he had good taste in thank you gifts. He set the scroll aside and picked up the last present.

It was purple and sparkly.

Taking a deep breath, he unwrapped it. Inside was an Encyclopedia of All Things Potion, Vol I. Underneath was a set of winter clothes and bag of sweets and at the very bottom was a small bag of beads and string and a note. Confused, Sev picked up the note.

_The best gifts are the ones you make yourself. They have a way of showing the feelings of the heart._

He blushed, somehow the Guardian knew he hadn't been able to get a gift for his mother or Lily. Shaking off his embarrassment, he read through the basic instructions written on the back of the note and began picking through the beads.

* * *

Christmas day saw the few remaining occupants of Hogwarts laughing and playing in the snow, showing off their new presents, playing games, or enjoying the peace and quiet that could only be found when a certain three Gryffindors were absent.

Briar stared up at the sky, not really seeing the snow falling around her but soaking up the sounds of life and happiness around her. With a happy sigh she snuggled into the snow bank, special charms keeping her from getting cold and wet.

A part of her wanted to join them, be a child and build a snowman, throw snowballs, and forget everything. But she couldn't. Every time she tried she would catch herself looking for familiar faces or listening for the sound of familiar voices laughing and singing carols, only to find that they weren't there. By the end of the first day she'd given up, restricting herself being a bystander.

She felt detached and it hurt. She loved Christmas; it had always been magical to her, even when she'd been at the Dursleys'. Christmas had always been a time of magic and miracles and hope.

Briar closed her eyes. She'd gone to extreme lengths to make sure those staying at Hogwarts would have all the joy Christmas could offer. She'd turned the whole castle into a winter wonderland, well as much of the castle as she could anyway. Ice and snow making dazzling designs along walls and ceilings, mistletoe popping up in random places, holly and lights scattered everywhere, and trees covered in all the ornaments she could find or make. Everything spelled to last until December 30th when the New Year decorations would replace them.

She'd even sent out presents to all the occupants, anonymously of course, as well as a few special presents for a certain few people and those she knew would have a hard time at home. It had cost a pretty penny and she knew it would come back to bite her later, but for now she simply didn't care. Yes, Christmas was a time of miracles and she was determined to make as many as possible, and the happiness she saw and heard made it all worth it.

But it still hurt. It hurt to wake up to nothing. It hurt that nobody was there to celebrate with her, to care if she _was_ happy. It hurt to be forgotten on the holiday she cherished most. It hurt to feel unloved.

Something small and warm landed on her chest and she opened her eyes as Seraph rubbed his feathered against her cheek.

"Not completely forgotten, then," she muttered. The pain in her heart faded a bit and she stood up. "Come on, I feel like drawing."

Seraph hooted and perched on her shoulder and together they headed inside.

* * *

It was late, long after even the ghosts had retired to their favorite haunts. Nobody saw the silent shadow make its way into the Great Hall. Nobody saw the figure flick a wand and light up the trees that would be gone in a few short hours. Nobody saw the girl sit and stare at the beautiful sight. Nobody saw the wistful look on her face as she listened to the softly sung carols coming from the floating balls. Nobody saw the pain and longing in her eyes when they landed on the various resident- made ornaments proclaiming love for a family member or friend. Nobody noticed the quiet sobs of Hogwarts forgotten resident. Nobody noticed when she disappeared.


	17. Coping

**Author's Notes: **Thank you so much for your patience. Updates will still be sporadic for a while as I finish pulling everything back together but (hopefully) this is the longest either of us will have to wait.

**Coping**

* * *

Her eyes snapped open as she let out a loud groan.

'You need to stop fighting.' Teagan's voice, projected into her mind, made the painful throbbing escalate and she winced.

"I'm not trying to," Briar mumbled, rubbing her temples. "I don't understand why this is so hard. I didn't have half this much trouble finding my core when I was learning to be an animagus the first time. I know it's there. I can _feel_ it, so why can't I '_see_' it?"

Briar let out a frustrated growl that turned to a whimper as her head throbbed again. Teagan hopped off her head.

"You cannot 'see' it because you are not letting yourself." The Hat sighed. "Instead of following the flow of magic to your core you are forcing it to drag you, all the while struggling not to let it move you."

Briar flopped backwards so she was lying on the thick, plush carpet and glowered at the Hat.

"You make it sound like I don't want find my core, like I'm afraid."

"Are you?"

Briar opened her mouth, a denial already formed, and paused.

"I don't know. Maybe?" She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes until spots appeared. "I don't know, am I?"

She heard Teagan sigh and a soft rustling of material as the Hat shifted.

"That you are afraid is not the question you should be asking, rather _why_ are you afraid?"

Briar let her arms fall and turned to stare out the window.

"What does one 'see' when they find their magical core?" The question was a hesitant and softly spoken whisper and the Hat remained silent for a long time.

"I cannot tell you." Teagan's voice was just as soft as hers had been. "I am made of magic, by magic, my whole being is my core yet I have none. When I think up the song for the beginning of the year I use my magic to tell me what message would be best to give, what knowledge is most needed at the time. For me, I do not 'see' anything; it is to 'feel' the subtle undercurrents of Hogwarts and her inhabitants."

Teagan fell silent and when it spoke again it was as if the Hat was choosing its words carefully.

"It was common practice, many centuries ago, that students were made to find their cores before they could graduate. A rite of passage, of sorts, that proved they knew their magic and themselves and were thus able to control and take responsibility for their lives and magic."

"To know themselves." Briar closed her eyes, hands curling into fists by her head. "Do I want to know myself?" She looked at Teagan. "I've lived through a war, through _hell_. Seen everyone I love suffer, either die or live wishing they had. I've sold my soul, my life, my very _existence_, in order to prevent that and in the process done terrible things.

"I've taken _lives_, Teagan, hundreds and hundreds of lives. I've killed people, _murdered_ them, real people, and not in the heat of battle, as if that makes it any better, _but in cold blood_. And if that's not bad enough, I plan to take more, thousands more, so, yes, I am scared.

"I'm scared because I know what I've done and will do is wrong and selfish. I'm scared because I don't want to see how_ broken and damaged _I really am. I'm scared because I don't want to know how far I've fallen, how _horrible_ and _ugly_ I –my magic, my soul– is. I'm scared because I know I'm turning into the very thing that destroyed everyone I loved; a _monster_."

She buried her face in her hands, eyes burning.

"It hurts, Teagan, it hurts _so much_. It hurts to remember them. It hurts to think about them. It hurts to see them, night after night, and remember how I failed to protect them. It hurts to be here, to see the faces of those I've lost and not have them love me in return or even _know_ me. It hurts to do these things I hate, so they will be safe. It hurts to know that if I make a single mistake none of what I've done will matter and they'll suffer again. But it more than hurts, it_ kills_, to know that I'll never get to love them, see them, be _with_ them in the future I'm fighting for.

"Why?" The question came out choked on a sob. "Why does it hurt, Teagan, _why_?"

"Child," the Hat patted a corner of its brim on her shoulder in a shallow attempt at comfort. "You are not a monster and you will never be one as long as you regret and doubt what you do, and do what you do out of love. It hurts _because_ you care, because you _love_. As long as you continue to regret the death the pain you cause, and continue to love you have nothing to fear."

"Will it ever stop hurting?"

"No, love shall always come with pain and fear, be it from rejection, or denial, or loss. The pain will fade but never leave; it is the 'thorns on the rose' so to speak."

"I don't think," she swallowed. "I don't think it would hurt so much if. . .if I still had the rose."

Silence fell, and in the dim light he could see her body shake in her fight to suppress her tears. After a long while the tears slowed, and Briar took a steadying breath.

"It certainly wouldn't suck half as much if I wasn't going through puberty. . ._again_."

It was a weak attempt at humor, but Teagan chuckled anyway.

* * *

Briar strolled across the ground. It was early February and still bitingly cold, too cold to be outside, but Briar flatly refused to be inside. It was Valentine's day and while Briar personally had nothing against the holiday, even contributing by hiring a group of 'cherubs' and turning everyone's clothes eye watering shades of pink, purple, and red, Briar found watching all the mushiness only made her more depressed. That and all the pink was a horrific reminder of Lockhart.

Briar shuddered at the thought and refocused back onto the other reason she was outside: 'soul searching' as Teagan had put it. Teagan had told her that one of the reasons she might be having so much trouble 'purifying' herself was because she was trying to cut a part of herself off. Teagan had flat out told her that while she was 'Briar' now she was also still 'Rose' and she couldn't forget or deny that.

Briar had been furious, arguing that she couldn't possibly be denying her past 'self' when it was the whole reason she here. Teagan had calmly explained that while she may have _accepted_ the situation she most certainly had not made _peace_ with it.

Briar sighed and kicked at the ground.

"And how the bloody hell am I supposed to make peace with my. . . my nonexistence?"

A flash of color caught her eye and Briar paused. She stared down at it. It was small, battered, and almost unrecognizable from the damage it had received. But it was still alive. Barely and maybe not for long, but at this particular moment it lived and that was all that mattered.

Briar knelt and gently brushed her fingers over the petals.

"A rose," she murmured.

The wind shifted, blowing the flower's scent into her face and Briar's eyes closed as the familiar fragrance stirred a long forgotten memory.

* * *

_She twirled the plant between her fingers, frowning._

_"__What a lovely pair of roses!"_

_She twitched, but continued to stare at the rose._

_"__Really, Sirius?" she asked, unamused by her godfather's loud and boisterous comment._

_"__Cut me some slack, kiddo, it's been a while."_

_"__That's almost as bad as a 'rose for a rose.'"_

_Sirius winced. "Heard that one often, have you?"_

_She hummed an answer still eyeing the flower in her hands. Sirius dropped into a chair across from her and placed a pot of tea between them._

_"__Alright, out with it."_

_She blinked and finally looked up. "What?"_

_"__It's bad enough your brother's moody all the time, though at least I know why, but I'm not putting up with two moody teenagers in my house." Sirius grimaced at his admittance to owning the place but plowed on. "So out with it! What's your problem?"_

_"__Why did they name me 'Rose?' I mean I understand __**why**__, 'Lily,' 'Petunia'. . . flower names for the girls, got it! But __**'Rose'**__? It's got to be the most unoriginal flower name ever!"_

_Sirius stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. She scowled and crossed her arms._

_"__If you don't stop laughing, I'll break the tea pot over your head," she threatened._

_"__Sorry, sorry," Sirius chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "It's just that almost word for word what Lily said."_

_"__What Mum said?" she repeated softly. "So then. . .?"_

_"__Yep," Sirius nodded. "It was James's idea to name you 'Rose.'"_

_She stared at him. After hearing about all the, admittedly genius, pranks her father had done she had really expected him to be more original. "__**Why**__?!"_

_Sirius grinned at her over his cup. "That's what Lily wanted to know too. Want to know what James told her?"_

_She nodded._

_"__It was a simple explanation, really," Sirius began, leaning back in his chair. "Though I think the ongoing war might have been a part of the reason."_

_"__How so?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward._

_"__Fear."_

_She frowned, confused._

_"__Your parents had already gone into hiding by the time Harry was born, so when Lily became pregnant with you and nothing had changed. . ." Sirius trailed off with a frown._

_She waited a minute before clearing his throat and pulling him from his memories._

_"__Hu? What? Oh! Sorry." Sirius rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly at her. "Anyway, yeah, James was getting worried he wouldn't be able to protect all of you, so, logically, he thought the next best thing would be to make sure you were strong enough to take care of yourself. And that's when he thought of naming you 'Rose.'"_

_"__I still don't get. If he was afraid why name me after a __**plant**__? Flowers are weak! Why not name me after something stronger or more hopeful like. . .Oh, I don't know!" She threw her hands in the air in frustration. "'Hope' maybe?"_

_"__That's what Lily wanted to name you, 'Hope,' but James refused. He said, and I quote; 'Hope is a good thing to have, but it never achieves anything by itself.' That's a lesson he learned chasing after your mother," Sirius said with a wink. "Besides, roses __**are **__strong. They are thick, sturdy plants that can withstand terrible storms and weather all nature throws at them. Their stems are covered in thorns that protect them from those that wish to harm them. In short, roses are made to endure and it was your father's wish that you would grow up to be just as strong and beautiful as a rose."_

* * *

Briar's eyes blinked open and she stared at the bedraggled flower in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she whispered as the petals fell off in her hands. "But even things made to endure don't last forever."

* * *

"Ok, Teagan, the rune circle is complete."

"Good, do you have the crystal?"

"Yep."

"Good, now I cannot do this with you, but I will talk you through the process from over here."

"Ok."

"Go sit in the circle."

Briar crossed into the center of the ridiculously complicated rune circle that had taken over a week to complete, making sure not to upset the sunstones that pulsed faintly around the edges of the circle. Once Briar was sitting cross-legged in the center she looked back at the Hat sitting on the table behind her.

"Place the crystal in your lap and frame it with your hands."

Briar pulled the pyramid shaped crystal from her pocket and held it so her thumbs rested on the tip and her fingers curled around the base.

"Close your eyes and visualize the negative thoughts and feelings within," Teagan instructed. "It is a cloud made of all that hurts you: the pain, guilt, and sorrow. As you breathe out 'push' the cloud into the crystal and breath in the pure, untainted air."

Despite her massive misgivings about this ritual, Briar took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, focusing on the crystal in her hands.

"Keep going until the cloud is gone."

Briar hummed an answer and Teagan relaxed on his perch. The Hat kept what passed as an 'eye' on the sunstones, a tad worried at how quickly the glow was fading. The stones, having soaked up sunlight for a full seven days, were meant to purify the surrounding air and create a calm and positive atmosphere that would help prevent negative outer influences from messing with or disturbing the ritual. Likewise, they were supposed to help draw out the negative aura within the person.

Briar breathed in and focused on her magic. To her, magic was like water, necessary and vital, too little and you die but too much would kill you. Briar followed the tiny streams until they became rivers and merged into the ocean that her mind used to visualize her core. Instead of a constant, lazy spiraling, it frothed and churned, huge waves crashing into each other making it look murky and ugly.

With an effort Briar began channeling one of the streams of 'dirtied' water away from the center and tugging it towards her hands. Once there Briar 'poured' the rotted magic into the crystal and began the process again and again and again. Each time got harder even while the 'weight' of the spoiled magic became lighter. Eventually the crystal became full and she was forced to stop. Briar made one last trip to her core. It still raged like a sea caught in a storm and looked dirtied and muddied, but it didn't look quite so bad, just a little calmer and maybe a little cleaner. It wasn't much, but it was progress and it was certainly a relief to be rid of it.

Briar placed the crystal pyramid in the center of the circle and walked over to the Sorting Hat stretching out the cramps as she walked.

"Seven days," Teagan reminded her. "We shall come back in seven days to take back the purified magic and repeat the process."

Briar sighed. This was going to be very long and, if today was any indication, painfully difficult.

'Just fantastic. Just bloody fantastic,' she thought sourly. 'As if I don't have a million other things to be doing right now!'

* * *

Briar was once again strolling across the grounds only this time it was May and warm to the point it seemed summer was making an early appearance. Briar didn't notice though, she felt light, so much lighter and freer than she had in ages. 'Purifying' herself had been as slow, long, and painful process as she'd imagined it to be, but it was worth it. She still had nightmares. . . and flashbacks. . .and relapses, but she no longer spent hours staring at nothing as she relived each and every memory. Briar breathed in the fresh air and smiled.

A flash of color caught her eye and Briar paused. She stared down at it. It was small, bright, and blooming beautifully from all care it had been given.

Briar knelt and gently brushed her fingers over the petals.

"A rose," she murmured. "Hello, little friend, it's nice to see you again."

The wind shifted, blowing the flower's scent into her face and Briar's eyes closed as the familiar fragrance brought her the memory of the last time she'd been to this spot. Briar smiled and stood up.

"Good bye, little friend, I hope you keep blooming."

A breeze shook the plant, giving it the illusion it was waving good bye, and Briar's smile widened as she turned to leave. It was nice to see little reminders that the world kept turning, and who knew? Maybe she'd get a chance to bloom again too.

* * *

No one noticed the changes in Gryffindor's quietest second year. No one noticed the way she watched the headmaster and deputy headmistress whisper together at meals times. No one noticed the letters she sent on the last day of term. No one noticed how she slipped onto and off the train unseen and alone.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Again, thank you for your patience! Now, I know the flashback might have seemed a bit random, but I felt it necessary. I know I always got frustrated whenever I read something I deemed 'unoriginal' and the most unoriginal name for an Harry Potter OC seems to be 'Rose.' I hated the idea that I was falling into a stereo type, and when I bounced the idea around for Briar's original name I kept thinking 'why would they ever name a girl "Rose" it just seems too unoriginal for a Marauder.' That when this little plot bunny bit me. Hope you like it! Cheers folks! Next chapter's already half written so hopefully I'll have it up in a few days.


	18. Saving Severus

**Saving Severus**

* * *

He threw back the shot and slammed the empty glass on the counter, signaling for more.

He'd had enough, enough of that woman.

He downed another glass.

Enough of her back talk. The woman had gotten far too cocky the past year, using that _weirdness_ of hers.

He stared at the amber liquid in his glass.

Far too full of herself, and it all started after that freakish kid of hers got his letter to that fancy, freak school.

He emptied the glass and tapped his finger against it, ordering another shot.

She'd only gotten worse as the years passed, and now that _spawn_ of hers had gotten cocky as well.

He downed the drink and upended the glass.

It was time to teach them some manners.

Tobias Snape left the bar and stumbled his way down the street towards his house.

"Woman!" he bellowed, throwing open the door.

A plate crashed in the kitchen and with a leer he headed in that direction. The freakish brat he was forced to call a son stood in the doorway, blocking him.

"Severus, go upstairs."

"No, Mum, I'm not going to let him hurt you." The boy glared at his father.

"Out of my way, boy!" He reached for the brat and his hand twitched away like it had every time he'd tried to touch the bastard child the past two years.

"Not this time," Tobias growled and forced his hand to grab the boy, throwing him to the side.

"Don't hurt him!"

"Shut up, woman!" he roared and slapped her across the face. "I've had it with you, your freakish ways, and your back talk."

Tobias raised his hand and hit his 'wife,' sending her crashing to the floor.

"Leave her alone!" Arms wrapped around his waist and tried to pull him away from the groaning woman.

"Get off, brat!" He pulled the boy off him and threw him from the room.

Severus hit the wall hard and slid down, dazed.

"I'll deal with you later," Tobias promised, slamming the door.

"No, you won't." His 'wife' staggered to her feet, gasping and wrapping an arm around her ribs. "You won't. . hurt him. Not. . .any. .more."

He snarled at her, fists clenching as he walked over to her.

Outside, Sev picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his head where it had hit the wall. A cry of pain cleared the fog from his mind and he shot up.

"Mum!" Severus yanked open the door to see his mother drop to the floor. "No!"

Sev launched himself at his 'father,' knocking him off balance and bringing both of them to the floor.

"Why you li'l-!" A large hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pinned him to the floor, the motion jarring his necklace loose from under his shirt.

"What's this?" An alcohol drenched voice slurred above him. "You been holdin' out on me, boy?"

A hand grabbed the pendant and Sev yelped as the cord cut into his neck before snapping.

"This looks pretty, should fetch a nice price."

Sev's heart sank as his father pocketed the bright red raven.

"I'll teach you to hide things from me!"

A fist slammed into his face and Sev's vision blurred.

"Freak!" the man above him yelled as a loud crack split the air.

"Release the child!" The voice was cold and furious.

"Who're you? Another freak?" Tobias Snape spat at the barely visible figure.

"I repeat, _release the child_!"

Sev watched his father sneer.

"Make me!"

A loud bang and Tobias Snape was flung across the room, where he dropped unconscious to the floor. Footsteps approached, and Sev felt hands pull him up and settle him against a broad chest. A vial was pressed to his lips.

"Drink." The voice was softer now.

Severus did, feeling the pain fade and the swelling go down.

"Ah, child," a voice murmured in his ear, "I am so sorry."

Gentle fingers brushed across his face and through his hair.

"I had hoped you would never need me." The voice sighed softly and when it spoke again it was filled with anger and regret. "And I was late when you did."

"It's ok, 'm alright," Sev mumbled as the pain induced fog lifted from his mind. "Stopped him 'fore he got going. Mum's the one who – Mum!" He shot up, staggering a little, "Please, you have to help my Mum!"

"Of course," his rescuer stood up, "but you should rest."

A gentle hand pushed him back down and Sev sat and watched the man move to his mother. Sev was fairly sure it was man as the chest he'd been propped up on had been too flat. Although he couldn't be sure as it was surprisingly difficult to follow and focus on the figure as he kept fading in and out of focus.

The person waved their wand, muttering spells Severus couldn't make out before lifting his mother's head and pouring several potions down her throat. She groaned, but remained unconscious. The man waved his wand again and she floated into the air.

"Where is a good place for her to rest?"

Sev hopped up, "Follow me."

Severus led the person up the stairs and into his parent's bedroom, his mother floating along behind them.

"She will need lots of rest," he told Sev as he gently laid her on the bed. "It'll take about two weeks, but she should recover fully."

The door closed softly behind them and they made their way back down stairs.

"Are you sure she'll be ok?" Sev asked, glancing back at the door.

"Yes, I've stopped the bleeding and healed the worst of it. Sadly, I'm not a doctor or a healer, so while I do have knowledge and training of emergency medicine I would still recommend seeing a professional, just to be safe."

Sev squirmed, money had always been a problem and there was no way he could afford treatment. As though sensing the issue, the man continued.

"However, I understand if you wish to keep this quiet and will do the best I can to make sure such a visit would be unnecessary." The man placed a reassuring hand on Sev's head and Severus felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

"Are you the Guardian?" The question burst from him, and Sev bit his lip as the figure paused on the last step.

". . .I am. I hope I didn't scare you."

Sev looked at the towering, shadow–like figure whose face was hidden behind a mask that looked, to Sev, to be like a broken helmet. It was the image of a fallen warrior.

"No," Sev answered honestly. "I feel protected."

A smile appeared on the partially masked face and a hand ruffled his hair before the man led him into the sitting room.

"You will need someone to watch you while your mother recovers. Do you have a place to stay?"

"I'm not leaving my mother!" Sev crossed his arms and glared defiantly at the Guardian who merely raised the one visible eyebrow.

"I'm not asking you to. I _am_ asking if you have someone to look after you, to make sure you eat right, get to bed on time, do your homework and such, while she is healing."

Sev deflated a little, "Oh."

"If you don't, I can stay, not all day, but often enough and long enough to ensure both you _and_ your mother are taken care of."

"You. . you'd do that?" Sev asked, astounded that anyone would be willing to do so much for him and a little unsure what to think or feel.

With a smile the Guardian flicked his wand and Severus' necklace flew into the man's hand.

"I promised to protect you, didn't I?" The man slipped the now repaired necklace back around Sev's neck. "Although, I was under the impression you had a friend nearby?"

"Wha-? Oh, Lily!"

"Would her parents be willing to let you stay over? Or at least check on you from time to time?"

"I think so," he answered hesitantly and the man nodded.

"Why don't you go ask. I'll still be here when you get back," he added quickly when Severus hesitated. Sev smiled, relieved, and left.

It was a quick run over to Lily's, whose parents insisted on coming over to talk to the mysterious 'Guardian.' Nervously, Severus led them and Lily, who flatly refused to be left behind, back to his home, enormously grateful to see the Guardian waiting in the sitting room drinking from a hip flask.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans paused in the doorway, staring at the strange person in front of them. Lily gaping openly until Sev elbowed he in the ribs, snickering, though he noted the place was much cleaner and airier than he remembered it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans I presume? A surprise and a pleasure to meet you."

They blinked as the figure rose to greet them.

"Yes, well. ." The elder Evans were finding it extremely hard to focus on words when they couldn't focus on the person they were talking to. Apparently realizing the problem the figure removed his cloak.

"My apologies, does this help?"

"Much," Mrs. Evans said, relieved when she was able to follow the man's path. "Now, what is this about Severus and his mother?"

They were quickly told the basic story. That Mrs. Snape was injured and Severus needed someone to check on him from time to time while Severus looked after her. Sev was relieved the Guardian hadn't mentioned _his_ injuries or his father's involvement, though the look Lily gave him said he would be explaining in greater detail later. Once the adult Evans agreed to help they left, Lily giving Severus another significant look.

"Well," the Guardian stood as well, picking up the cloak and putting it back on. "Now that that's settled I should be leaving as well. I will send over potions for you and your mother every other day and will come back to check on her progress at least once a week."

He placed several vials on the table.

"These are for your mother and these," several more potions were placed in Severus' hands, "are for _you_, and I expect you to take _all_ of them."

The tone and stern look told Sev the man knew he hadn't been taking all his potions, and Severus squirmed uncomfortably.

"The instructions," the man continued with a flick of his wand, "are on the table along with the recipes, if you're feeling curious."

Sev stared at two papers and swallowed the lump in his throat. No one had ever done so much for him, or showed him so much care, except his mother and Lily.

"Thank you."

The man knelt in front of him.

"You are not alone, Severus. Not now, not ever. I promised I would protect you. I did and I _will_ continue to do so until you are able to protect yourself." The man gave him a small smile. "Which, given how strong you are now, should be soon."

Sev did something he never thought he would ever do to anyone other than his mother; he threw his arms around the stranger. Strong arms returned the hug.

"What about _him_?"

The man tightened his hold. "I will be taking him with me, if you don't mind?"

Sev shook his head. "Take him! Please, please take him and don't ever let him come back!"

"I will never let him hurt you again."

Severus nodded and scrubbed his eyes as the Guardian stood and made his way back to the kitchen. A wave of his wand and everything was fixed and back to normal. Sev watched as his father and the Guardian disappeared with a loud crack, feeling a heavy weight lift from his chest.

* * *

Briar watched the body of Tobias Snape burn, acid churning in the back of her throat. When she'd first felt the raven on her necklace heat up she'd frozen. Then it was a blur of movement as she'd grabbed her stuff, snatching up as many potions as she could fit in her pockets and stuffing the first hair she'd grabbed into a vial of polyjuice potion, leaving before it had a chance to fully change her.

Arriving to find a man sitting on top of Severus with his fist raised had had her seeing red. She'd used much more force than necessary to throw the man across the room and had thoroughly enjoyed hearing a couple of bone break.

Of course seeing Severus lying on the ground with a blood covered face had sent her into panicked medic mode. It didn't help that Severus's black hair and pale skin reminded had her flashing back to all of the times she'd come across Harry covered in blood and her guilt at not arriving in time increased. It diminished somewhat at the gratefulness Severus showed her after she'd taken care of his mother.

Explaining the situation to the Evans without giving too much away or embarrassing Severus had been challenging, but watching Lily throw suspicious looks at Severus had been amusing. By the end of the conversation her nerves had been fried and she was ready to go.

Briar blinked as the fire went out and stared at the pile of ash. Letting out a long, slow breath she banished the ashes and turned to leave. It was a long walk back to anywhere and Briar used the time to clear her head. She had promised, in not so many words, that she would help Severus with his mother which meant spending time with him as the Guardian. Briar was not looking forward to that and her mind raced as she tried to figure out how to salvage the situation without sacrificing any of her other plans.

She stopped when she reached to edge of a cliff and heaved another sigh. Her lips twitched in a smile.

The hug had been a surprise.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

In case any of you are wondering why Briar appeared as a male Guardian. Well, she can't let anyone know she's the Guardian, plus polyjuice (in my theoretical opinion/nerd based pondering) gives the drinker the abilities of the person they are impersonating, which Briar takes advantage of in order to be stronger and/or faster than her opponents. That and (like I think I mentioned in the story) she just grabbed a random hair.


End file.
